My Other Life

Rating:
Summary: The first words that come to mind are...
Review: ...self-indulgent...But that would be too harsh and can't go without explanation.

The book is essentially 456 pages of Theroux (fictional or autobiographical, it doesn't matter) whining...about his writing or lack of it, about his poverty and lack of success as a writer, about people he doesn't like or doesn't understand (usually those with more money or success than himself). You get the idea.

After the first hundred pages or so, I knew where the whole thing was going: this 'novel' (better defined as a collection of loosely related short stories) serves to convey an oblique account of the steady disintegration of Theroux's marriage and how he comes to grips with it and gets on with his life afterwards. He takes his time getting to the point, though, and this hurts. Meanwhile, he spends a great many words complaining about the English, directly or indirectly. Which is perhaps the book's only truly entertaining irony, as he writes in such a very British way that I hardly heard his (allegedly) 'American' voice until very late in the book. Even then, he frequently used accidental Britishisms...no American writer would write 'Cocoa Puffs' and then feel obliged to explain that it was a breakfast cereal, and no American would note that a man 'has a sport' when he means to say that he works out regularly.

Conspicously lacking amid this whine-fest are any solid recollections of his success stories (again, whether fictional or autobiographical, the result is the same). We never hear about the joy of landing a publishing contract, of having a book turned into a movie, of the satisfaction of shepherding his children toward adulthood, of his great travel experiences and sexual flings. We only hear about the bad parts. He was underpaid here; he was underappreciated there. His sexual escapades almost always end in inept frustration. This went wrong, that was miserable, this fell apart, on and on. Taken at face value, one wouldn't know from this book what a success Theroux has really been (even the fictional version).

However, it does have it's good moments. Technically, the writing is excellent, especially when he turns his attention to describing a scene in physical detail - the train ride to Moyo, and the depth of detail in Medford come readily to mind. There are a few very nice chapters, especially in the second half of the book. 'Forerunners' is charming and very clever, if heavily telegraphed, and 'George and Me' is right on. 'Medford - Next 3 Exits' almost worth the price of the book.

I'm still scratching my head over the TIME review blurb on the cover "...a seriously funny novel," as the humor in this book is "minuscule," as Paul's Uncle Hal might say.

I give it three stars, but don't recommend it.

Rating:
Summary: The first words that come to mind are...
Review: But only in a post-structuralist sort of way. The self-consciousness makes this otherwise finely-written book uneven; it's a collection of memoir essays collected in a pastiche, actually, Theroux's version of *The Benny Poda Years* (or vice-versa). And after a while, one grows a little tired of the "fiction" pose in BOTH narrators'lives--after all, autobiography itself has a lengthy and healthy legacy of inspiring the Reader's suspension of disbelief.

Rating:
Summary: A must read for Paul Theroux fans
Review: Having lived in several of the countries Mr. Theroux has written about, including Malaysia, Singapore and U.K. and also beinga great fan of his favorite authors like V.S. Naipaul and Graham Greene,I highly recommend "My Other Life" to anyone who is interested in the inner life of a writer. This book is certainly one of his best and mirrors his own growth in both his personal and professional lives. I was afraid that this book would bore me, having already read "My Secret History", but I have to say that this book only increased my appreciation for Mr. Theroux as a writer. His abilities in self analysis and in being able to weave a complex story in a thoroughly readable manner makes him one of the most interesting authors around. Whether Mr. Theroux is trying to coyly deceive us into believing that "My Other Life" is only fiction or whether he is only tantalizing us with semi truths is unimportant. This book will keep you wondering at his ever increasing skills as a writer and have you only begging for more.

Rating:
Summary: My Other Life
Review: I believe this is Paul Theroux's best "fiction" effort to date. "My Other Life" is a quasi-memoir, built around short stories -- the big and illuminating moments around which people eventually construct their personal histories. Theroux claims it is a book of fiction, and perhaps it is. But the main character's name is Paul Theroux, and his experiences and titled output very much resemble the author's. From Cape Cod, where Theroux recounts a boyhood relationship with a secretly extraordinary uncle, to East Africa, where he teaches English to lepers, to Singapore and poetry lessons for a talentless war merchant, to London, where his career and ambition begin to soar, and then back again to Massachusetts, where his doldrums bring him into the orbit of both strangers and old friends. How closely does this narrative follow Theroux's actually life events? Who knows? Maybe VS Naipaul does.

Rating:
Summary: Theroux! Love him or hate him
Review: I happen to enjoy Paul Theroux a lot of the time, and this "fictional autobiography" delivers the goods. As usual, Theroux goes over familiar territory, Africa, Singapore, London and Massachussets, and makes one wonder which of his stories are real and which aren't. My favourite chapters in this book are his encounter with the royals at a posh function, (especially his Prince Phillip moment) and his pilgrimage to his hometown of Medford Massachussets, slumming with some locals who wouldn't know one of his books if it hit them on the head.

This is as good introduction to this author as any book, although one would do well to start off with one of his travel books, such as The Old Patagonian Express (which is where I discovered Theroux). I found My Other Life to be much more enjoyable and substantial than his somewhat self-pitying My Secret History, written a few years previously. In fact I should re-read My Other Life soon, each page has some gems.

Rating:
Summary: Theroux! Love him or hate him
Review: I happen to enjoy Paul Theroux a lot of the time, and this "fictional autobiography" delivers the goods. As usual, Theroux goes over familiar territory, Africa, Singapore, London and Massachussets, and makes one wonder which of his stories are real and which aren't. My favourite chapters in this book are his encounter with the royals at a posh function, (especially his Prince Phillip moment) and his pilgrimage to his hometown of Medford Massachussets, slumming with some locals who wouldn't know one of his books if it hit them on the head.

This is as good introduction to this author as any book, although one would do well to start off with one of his travel books, such as The Old Patagonian Express (which is where I discovered Theroux). I found My Other Life to be much more enjoyable and substantial than his somewhat self-pitying My Secret History, written a few years previously. In fact I should re-read My Other Life soon, each page has some gems.

Rating:
Summary: The ego and its doppelganger
Review: I like the quality of the writing in this book and the nature of the hero's adventures a great deal more than the actual personality of the protagonist. This is a common conundrum with Mr.Theroux's work. He is a gifted storyteller but comes across in his travel literature and novels ,where the main character is often transparently based on himself, as an insufferable snob. The early passages in this book will ring familiar to readers of "My Secret History" and it should be by now abundantly clear that the author considers himself virtually irresistable to women of every color and nationality and that he often fancies himself the last civilized man sipping taseful vintages and nibbling on an orange while the coarse masses go about burping, copulating, screaming or talking nonsense. It is a strong ego that decides the cosmopolitan nature of a city or household by how many of his book titles it holds. Still, something interesting happenes about half way through this novel: our hero loses his wife, his bearings and some of his self-consciousness, although never his spirit of exploration and he becomes instantly likable. The chapter on his going home to Massachusetts and hanging out with various juvenile delinquents, and other characters who no doubt don't know the right fish fork to use at a bankett in Singapore ,is beautifully nostalgic, insightful and, dare I mention it, humble. Mr. Theroux is a gifted stylist and misery becomes him.

Rating:
Summary: My review of : My Other Life
Review: I thought the first half to be boring, I was bored with the English characters he knew. I was ready to put it down half way through then it picked up with his separation from his wife. There were a few very insightful lines that made it worth the price of the book. " a brillant writers ability to enter the readers soul" and "How did they do it?" also I knew what few readers knew, that you had to be that particular writer in order to write that particular book. I was very impressed with these two lines, something I always felt but I couldn't put into words.

Rating:
Summary: A strange mixture of autobiography and fiction
Review: This book is a strange mixture of autobiography and fiction; an "imaginary memoir" as the author explains in the book's preface: "This is the story of a life I could have lived had things been different". Each chapter is a self-contained short story (or short memoir if you like), and it's often tantalizing to imagine what is real, what is an exaggerated version of the truth and what is pure fantasy. It is probable, for instance, that Theroux met the Queen, but less likely that he found himself briefly alone with her and experienced a burning and reckless desire to touch her, indeed to burst into tears and cry on her shoulder. These sorts of fantasies make My Other Life an often humourous read but there are flashes of whimsy, nostalgia and regret as well.
Some of the chapters are short and epigrammatic; the longer chapters are more satisfying, particularly "The Queen's Touch" (mentioned above), "Poetry Lessons" and "Lady Max". They all feature the typical Theroux trademarks: ironic detachment verging on superciliousness, fluid writing style with clever use of dialogue, and sly humour. He's a page-turner as well: the plots are subtle but compelling, you're drawn into the stories, wanting to know what is going to happen next, yet the tales are not plot-driven and so there is plenty of time for reflection.
In "Poetry Lessons", Theroux recounts a tale that combines poetry with a small intrigue involving a rich, untalented benefactor to whom the narrator is drawn to for his wealth and power yet repelled by his (and his wife's) uncritical vulgarity. The benefactor wants Theroux to teach him how to write better poetry, but it soon becomes obvious that not only does this benefactor lack talent, he also lacks any literary intelligence or worldliness (he asks "which war?" when Theroux mentions the War Poets). Theroux takes artful delight in pointing out to the reader this stooge's solecisms and paucity of literary knowledge.
"Lady Max", again, satirizes the rich and powerful: Theroux feels contempt for the eponymous and vaguely reptilian woman but is strangely drawn into her world, without, apparently, being corrupted by it.
"The Queen's Touch" is very funny, despite its overall tone of quiet desperation. Her Majesty comes across as a rather detached but thoughtful lady, with an aura of wise serenity, while her husband is ridiculed for his intense irascibility:
"This was a man who knew how to express boredom. In order to show me how utterly uninterested he was he worked his mouth, savouring, tasted something foul, pulled a face, then made an effort of swallowing... his relentless negativity and unhelpfulness baffled me."

There is much pleasure to be derived from Theroux's prose: he is a skilful writer: succinct, ironic, with a great gift for a turn of a phrase. My Other Life combines his skill at fiction and non-fiction, and the thought that some of the described events may have actually happened provides us with a frisson of delight.