The Mimic Men

On the surface this is the memoir of a disgraced former colonial minister, Ralph Singh, exiled from the island country he briefly ruled and now living in a run-down hotel in London. But perhaps it’s more accurate to think of this as the trellis upon which Naipaul has woven a much deeper, much more complex examination of colonialism, politics, race, society, culture, and human psychology.

I’m struggling to figure out how to characterize a story in which much happens internally while very little actually occurs externally. One insight that occurs early is that Naipaul has chosen his narrator well. Singh’s life story provides opportunities to explore so many complex issues – from his childhood spent navigating a chaos of show more adolescent, intellectual, religious, racial and class issues, to his brief career as a radical politician in which he explores the complex realities of colonialism and the emptiness and futility of revolutions that arise from anger and despair, to his “retirement” in exile, which provides the opportunity for exhaustive self-examination about identity. Throughout the narrative, however, weaves at least one common theme: the extent to which a life spent mimicking the values & ambitions of others – other people, other cultures, other classes, other religions, other economies, other political systems – can ever be “true” or fulfilling. Can identity ever be wholly organic, or do we inevitably define ourselves through the perceptions and expectations of race/class/society/gender we are born into?

In 250 short pages Naipaul packs an almost indescribable amount of observation and reflection, couched in language that borders on lyrical at times. Seriously, I was underlining passages almost every paragraph – beautifully turned phrases, dazzling flashes of insight, deftly observed universal truths. Which makes for an intense intellectual experience, but possibly not riveting reading if your aim is entertainment or distraction. So consider yourself warned: while this definitely isn’t something you’d want to take with you to the beach, it will amply reward readers who are willing to devote to it the time and reflection it deserves. show less

Unquestionably, very good writing. I am not surprised V.S. Naipaul got a Nobel Prize for Literature... And this is my first book by him. The plot, the topic, though, put me in such doom and gloom, that it was almost painful to read. The protagonist is writing a memoir, and we get to witness his growing up on a British-owned island of Isabella - and all the poignantly revealed complicated emotions that come with it, his rise to power as a second-rate politician and the disgrace afterwards... There is of course an inferiority complex of being of Indian heritage and much, much more - all of which is simply too much to bear when one reads it. At least that's how it was for me. That said, it made me want to explore more of this author - to show more see if he writes in this vein in his other works. show less

Clearly for me, the best novel of Naipaul's I've read. Often allusive, meaning the reader must wait for situations and relationships to resolve themselves. Beautiful writing that illuminates the writer's serious attempt to look as honestly as he can at how his origins shaped the course of his first forty years. Naipaul's stance is that a colonial background and society will never fully allow its people to function as a thriving entity.
At the end the writer, as he sets down his memoir, sees a personal resolution in withdrawal from political and familial ambitions.
"It gives me joy to find that in so doing I have also fulfilled the fourfold division of life prescribed by our Aryan ancestors. I have been student, house-holder and man of show more affairs, recluse...
Yet I feel that in this time (his life to date) I have cleared the decks, as it were, and prepared myself for fresh action."
And so he did. This was Naipaul's second novel. Huge success for him was to follow. show less

This was a somewhat slower read than some of Naipaul's other works, in my opinion, but I think there's more subtlety here the more I look at it---the difficulty in seeing it is that a lot of the work comes together in the end, moreso than in other books, so that this is one of those books that might require two reads to get a real feel for. The characters and plot, though, are humorously built, and fun to explore. As a result, it's worth reading, and great entertainment with a complex structure that still comes across as being both necessary and thoughtful. For readers who want to see the subtlety of Naipaul's beautiful language and and twists, a second read might be in order as well. Naipaul, though, as usual for me, constructs the show more most beautiful prose, and those sentences that make you stop at a moment's notice to reread.

So, not my favorite Naipaul, but certainly worth reading and recommending. show less

Cruel, brutal, unflinching: The Mimic Men is one of the most important novels of the century. A foundational piece in postcolonial studies.

A story and character that stays with you. An excellent discussion on how corruption starts and stays. Good to be read with "The Inbetween world of Vikram?".

One day i will finish reading this book as well