This book was pretty disappointing. I love a good book that can transport you to a new perspective and a new place, which is what I came into this book thinking it would be. I had recently read some great British/Indian books and was ready to keep that roll going.

Instead I got a book that was extremely boring with a protagonist that bored me to tears with mediocrity, and a plot that was just filled with implicit racism. Of course, the more you read about Naipaul himself, the less there is to like. But to overlook his personal faults to enjoy some masterpiece would questionable at best, yet to do it for a boring, self-serving book with little purpose is downright foolish.