Paul Theroux

I like reading Paul Theroux's non- fiction ; not so much his fiction. I am rather unenthusiastic about fiction in general, not just Theroux in particular.

There is something about Theroux's text which is magical, and in so being very engrossing indeed. I marvel over the manner of his description, simple description, in all his text and wonder how he manages that thoughtful word, an apt epithet, an adjective in a paragraph, woven with sentential sequences in to the body of text. The fabric he creates is not expensive like silk but durable and stable - something that you can afford and use till it tatters after it is completely utilised for the purpose for which it was created. In him I find a marriage of usefulness and art.

Paul Theroux to me is an architect of simple lasting public buildings rather than a builder of impressive palaces. He is a builder of town halls rather than Taj Mahals. But his town halls are full of the glory of Taj's fountains and marble and gardens. Remove those from Taj Mahal and, as I imagine it, not much will remain of the wonder that Taj is. But Theroux's town hall without the gardens and the glory still may have that which draws minds of men towards wonderment. You are not awe struck by Theroux, but long after he sinks into you and you start feeling the effect, you realise . And you feel thankful.

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