n  Sadly I wasn't impressed. n

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!

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.

A gem. Naipaul is one of the greats. As annoying and inexplicable as Willie Chandran can be as a protagonist in "Half A Life," he is always an engaging storyteller and, consequently, an excellent narrator. The pace of "Half A Life" is outstanding. One of the things I love most about Naipaul is his detached, super smart look at life for what we now call marginalized people navigating the Western world. Obviously that was a perpetual, personal odyssey for Naipaul, too, but the Nobel people were right when they called him Conrad's heir. There is a kind of contempt in Naipaul's thinking (for everyone, it seems, not just his Indian or Caribbean characters) that can be unnerving. When it is accurate, it strikes deep and leaves me melancholic about myself and the world. But sometimes it seems gratuitous and a bit unfair. Nevertheless, seeing India, London and then Mozambique (unnamed) through Willie's eyes, which are perceptive for all his crippling self-doubt, is fascinating. On to "Magic Seeds" now, the continuation of Willie's story, and it remains as engaging and interesting as "Half A Life."

No one is better than V.S. Naipaul at depicting 20th century colonialism. Of Indian ancestry, he was born and raised on Trinidad, then a British colony, until he went to London in 1950, and from there incessantly traveling (and writing about it) until his death in 2018. Half a Life is not one of his best books, but the scenes of its hero, Willy Chandran, in Mozambique, Portuguese East Africa, make the book worth reading.

The book's only flaw is its main character, Willy. You might say he lives "half a life" by not being his own person, but always a mere shadow of the dominant people to whom he attaches himself. One follows his life from childhood in India, where he is the son of a Brahmin father who has stubbornly married a Dalit (Untouchable) wife, leading to confusion about who he is and where he is headed. In London, he allows himself to be led around, until he meets Anna, from Mozambique, and decides to go back to Africa with her.

Really puts the “meh” in misogyny.

يقول جبران" لا تعش نصف حياة..النصف هو حياة لم تعشها وكلمة لم تقلها وحب لم تصل إليه
رواية للكاتب البريطاني الهندي الأصل ڨي إس نايبول .. رواية أمكنة وثقافات مختلفة
تدور أحداثها في منتصف القرن العشرين فترة الكولونيالية وما بعدها
يرحل ويلي تشاندران من بلده الهند في محاولة للبحث عن ذاته وهويته وحياته الحقيقية
ينتقل من الهند إلى بريطانيا ثم إلى مستعمرة برتغالية في افريقيا
يحمل إرث نشأته الذي يرفضه ويعيش تبعا لعادات وثقافات وعلاقات مختلفة تماما
وفي النهاية وبعد سنوات طويلة يُدرك أخيرا انه لم يعش سوى نصف حياة
أجاد نايبول رسم شخصية بطل روايته ما بين الاغتراب واللامبالاة والانقياد

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/7...

A title recommended and passed on to me by my daughter recently. I read it in one afternoon session sitting in the shade in the garden.
As a little boy Willie Chandran wanted to know why his middle name was Somerset. His father explains that it was after the famous British writer Somerset Maugham. Willie of course wants to know why. This is the story that his father gradually tells him, of a son whom possibly should never have been born, while he is growing up and Willie is coming to terms with his origins. Growing up in India he leaves for London in the post war years, eventually falling in love and moving to Africa. A short biographical style story that I found rather sad as he felt he did not belong anywhere. Willie seemed such a pathetic man, hated by his father he appears to wander through his own life aimlessly trying to fit in with those around him. Once a misfit always a misfit; seems the easiest way of describing Willies discomfort with his life.

When I first started reading this book, I had no idea how it would turned out to be. The book was a gift someone gave me in 2002, I didn’t know who Naipaul was or why would he have been awarded a Nobel Literature prize. And most certainly I didn’t know that this book would end up to also be about the Wars of Liberation (Guerras da Libertação), particularly in Mozambique, in the late times of the Portuguese colonial empire. Naipaul writes magnificently about growing up and growing apart from your origins. And it also sheds light about what someone feels when they are doomed to live only half-lives. From India to England, from Portugal to Mozambique, this book was a great travel inwards and outwards.

3½
Naipaul kirjoittaa lempeästi omassa elämässään eksyneen intialaismiehen tarinan. William seuraa sivusta ja tekee sopeutumisesta taiteenlajin. Silti häntä vainoaa ajatus, että hän haaskaa elämäänsä, ettei hän tule siksi joksi hänen pitäisi tulla, mitä se sitten onkaan. Nopealukuinen romaani kerii läpi Williamin elämää lapsuuden Intiasta opiskelijaksi Englantiin, sieltä naisen perässä Afrikkaan ja lopulta varhaiskeski-iän kriisissä sisaren luo Saksaan. William itse on melko hajuton ja mauton päähenkilö, mutta hän kohtaa monia kiehtovia ja rakastettaviakin hahmoja, jotka sitten jäävät taakse Williamin keskittyessä oman elämänsä etsimiseen. Hänet olisi helppo tästä tuomita, mutta kukapa ei olisi tehnyt toisinaan aivan samaa..

Williamin tarina siis jatkuisi tästä, ilmeisesti itsenäisyystaistelijana Intiassa. Ehkä sen joskus luenkin. Tämä oli sellaista fiksua mutta kevyttä luettavaa, mitä toisinaan kaipaan.

أحيانا تخطر في بالي تساؤلات عن أولئك المنبوذين في العالم ، المقهورين في مجتمعهم بسبب عرق أو دين أو جنسية ينتمون إليها . تُرى كيف يتعايشون مع هذه النظرة - نظرة الاحتقار والفوقية والازدراء التي يلقونها ممن حولهم ، كيف يستطيعون العيش في وسط مثل هذا ؟ أين يذهبون بأنفسهم ؟ كنت أضع نفسي موضعهم ولا أجد حلا سوى بالرحيل ، الرحيل عن مجتمع مريض مليء بالعقد النفسية  لا سبيل إلى الارتقاء به أو تغيير نظرته العنصرية أو رفع ظلمه عن الفئة المقهورة والمنبوذة .في هذه الرواية نرى العالم من وجهة نظر إنسان مقهور معذب بانتماءاته وماضيه وحقيقته التي عاش بقية عمره وهو يخفيها ، ويلي الشاب الهندي الذي سخط على أبيه و طريقة تفكيره و أسلوبه في العيش ، والذل الذي ورثه لأبنائه وزوجته. وذهب إلى لندن ليحيا حياة كريمة بعيدا عن الذل والقهر. وهناك يعيد اكتشاف نفسه والعالم من حوله ، ويبصر عيوبه التي خلّفتها بيئته القديمة في شخصيته . ويعيش صراعا مع نفسه فيما يريده أو في تحديد ما يريده ، ويجد نفسه مسيرا ليس له أية رؤية أو خطة لمستقبله ، و لكنه يلمح في آنا الفتاة التي أعجبت به رسالة من القدر ، يتبعها إلى وطنها في أفريقيا و يعيش مغامرة جديدة هناك لثمانية عشر عاما . طوال قراءتي للرواية لم أستطع إلا أن أتعاطف مع ويلي ، وأشعر بالآلام التي كان يعيشها ، أسلوب الكاتب و طريقة سرده للقصة يتركان أثرا عميقا في وجدان القارئ . بعض الجمل أو الأفكار في الرواية تعتبر خالدة : كاعترافه بالحاجة الملحة للمرأة في حياته ، و دور آنا في حمايته و مساندته في أن يحيا مجددا و يقف على قدميه . أيضا مما أثر في القصص التي ألفها ويلي عندما كان فتى و طريقته في إيصال فكرته لأبيه . وبالتأكيد القصة التي رواها الأب لابنه في بداية الرواية ، قصة حياته . حاولت أن أتغاضى عن نظرة الكاتب للمجتمعات الإسلامية ودين الإسلام بشكل عام ، وقسوته في تصوير بؤس بلدان العالم الثالث ، فهذا أول لقاء لي مع الكاتب ولا أظنه الأخير

This is the first novel by Naipaul that I have ever read. In fact, I don’t remember having heard of him before my book club chose this book. The first part of the book left me a bit cold and bored, but suddenly something clicked and I realized it was really a very passionate and even funny novel. Everyone in this novel is pretending to be something they are not. There is a lot about being a stranger in a strange land; Naipaul really captures how it feels to be an expat and the way living in another country sets you free to create a whole new persona for yourself. It is liberating and frightening. Are you betraying your parents, your family, your country? Are you discovering new facets of yourself or only playing a role? Will others find out you are just faking? Seldom have I found a book that explored these issue. Naipaul clearly has lived these experiences and has put a lot of himself into this book.

One of the many other themes Naipaul examines in this book is the difference between being a person who comes from privilege (British, Portuguese) vs. the conquered/colonials (East Indians, Africans). I don’t think I have ever read another book that takes on this topic in such a subtle and effective way. It is painful to read the passages in which the protagonist, Willie, tries to connect with the British men whom his father thought of as friends but who were really just privileged Brits passing their holidays in exotic India. Equally disturbing were the scenes in Africa describing the “2nd tier” half-Portuguese families playing at being Europeans, desperately trying to get their children into Portuguese schools and lording themselves over their fully African servants. This is a different view of power and privilege than the black-white narrative that underlies the American experience. I found the change in point of view refreshing and thought-provoking.

So much of the book felt autobiographical that I have taken the time to look up some additional information about Mr. Naipaul and decided that I need to read “A House for Mr. Biswas” and also a book by Paul Theroux, “Sir Vidia’s Shadow.” The Theroux book is nonfiction, and tells of the decades-long friendship between the two authors. I hope that by reading these two books, I will learn something more about this extraordinary author and better understand how his life is reflected in his novels.

Half a life is an uncomfortable read. There are moments of genuine insight such as when Naipaul's protagonist states that not all person are born with sexual impulses and no one teaches us the art of flirting.
Well, I too belong to this unhappy breed who isn't skilled in the art of flirting. There is another scene in which Willie's(protagonist) wife asks him about the rumor she had heard about him and an another women. To which Willie replies that his wife wouldn't understand until she see them (he and the other woman) having sex.
Yet moments like these are few and far between. Half a life could have been a much better book if it had been a little more well researched and had few more fleshed out characters. As for Naipaul's prose it is boring, meaningless and highly self obsessed just like the life of his protagonist.