Customer Reviews

Theroux: Collected Stories

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Paul Theroux is the kind of writer who is not afraid to go out on a limb. His literary output over the last twenty-five years or so is as diverse and inspired as any other American writer working today. And I'm pleased to say that in this handsome paperback re-issue he seldom disappoints. Take, for example, the almost hallucinogenic vigor of "Dengue Fever". I challenge anyone to read this story once through in a quiet setting and not be haunted by its shadowy, sinuous images a week, a month, or even a year after the initial experience. It is Theroux's turgid depictions of fever, deftly mixed with the not implausible elements of the supernatural, that make this tale a breath-taking excursion into the horrific realm of the subconscious.

Then there is the creepy, nocturnal brilliance of "World's End," in which the narrator of the story becomes the not so subtle victim of his own vanity. The suspense never lets up while steadily building toward a sat! isfying, even shocking ending. Is his wife having an affair while the narrator smugly entertains yet another road trip? The narrator's son, shrewd and tight-lipped, is a wonderfully nuanced portrait of silent anguish and controlled fear, while the timorous image of a kite and the ironic metaphor of "play" are cleverly juxtaposed by Theroux who knows well the value of a ripe Joycean symbol.

My schedule doesn't permit a lot of free time for reading so I randomly picked up Theroux's collected stories from the local library and I must say that the storylines are intriguing and the characters are so believable, you may very well find yourself empathizing with them.

This is a fantastic collection of stories if you have a long commute and need a break from the rubbish on the airwaves.

I picked up The Mosquito Coast by Paul Theroux years ago, and it was the first book I read by which I judged the movie by the book. Through the years came other books, most notably The Old Patagonian Express, which ends where I live, in Argentina. The discussion of Theroux's time with the indomitable Jorge Borges alone was worth the price of the book. When I recently saw Collected Stories at the yearly Buenos Aires Book Fair I quickly picked it up, happily returning to all things Theroux for awhile.
Collected Stories takes us from Malaysia, to Africa, to London, and gives glimpses, almost photo like, of the lives of people Theroux knew, or invented, along the way. So convincing were his embassy stories that I looked up his biography online to see if he actually worked in one. Theroux is often the narrator of his tales, starts strong with a number of good first lines, and to me writes convincingly when his character is a woman. Although the stories vary in quality, the collection shows a master storyteller. The book contains many, many stories, yet for me a general theme stands out.
As I read the book, I began noting the different topics discussed. Theroux deals with affairs, a drinking problem, murder, deceitful friendships, leaving a spouse, deception, a loss of hope, and a resignation of what life has become for the characters. Though not every story was a downer, a human resignation, an inability to resolve life's problems, resonated throughout the book, and I found myself hoping for something nice to happen...to somebody. As well, Theroux has the ability to make interesting the lives of characters whose international lives are really not that interesting. While reading the story The Exile, I came across " ...his reading was vigorous and gave life to what seemed to be little more than spidery monologues about his domestic affairs..."; to me, that line might summarize some of the stories. As I kept reading, I found myself at times doing so because I was committed to finishing the book, rather than being gripped by what I was reading.
I was struck by the final stories, which deal with the courtship, love and marriage of Flora Doming-Duncan and Spencer Monroe Savage. So happy, so content, so growing-together was the couple that I was left with a good feeling and wanted to wish them well as they began a life together and as I closed the book. Yet, following all that I read, the sadness, unrequited hopes and human resignation that had settled into the numerous lives and marriages of those who went before, I realized that in Theroux's world this was probably expecting too much. Was Collected Stories worth it? For a Theroux fan, or for someone wanting short fiction, the answer is yes. But all the while you are aware of a sadness that prevails, a world where honesty is often just another word for resigned acceptance, and you hope you don't find yourself in the pages, no matter how exotic the background.

From troubled marriages ("World's End," "You Make Me Mad") and families ("After the War"), from Africa to Malaysia to London, The Collected Stories by Paul Theroux covers a lot of physical, political, social, and emotional territory. Whether he is writing about the past, present, or future ("Warm Dogs") or as the first-person or omniscient narrator, Theroux describes places, people, and events colorfully yet coolly, as though as a writer he is not part of the world or life portrayed.

Parts I, II, and III are mostly discrete, unrelated stories covering a wide range of places, people, and themes. Unhappy marriages and relationships, also found in Parts IV and V, are the topic of many Theroux stories. "World's End" begins with, "Robarge was a happy man . . ." and ends with, ". . . he knew now they were all lost," with a subtle revelation of disloyalty and the realization of distrust in between. In "A Political Romance," love and life come full circle; bloom, discontent and stagnation (". . . in thirty years he would be--this hurt him--the same man, if not a paler version"), and renewal ("Lepska, I love you"). "What Have You Done to Our Leo?" uncovers a woman's perfidy and a man's naivete, assumptions, and developing understanding ("Her laughter was coarse, that stranger's laugh that fitted the new image that Leo had of her."). A rarity in fiction, the older couple of "You Make Me Mad" knows each other too well, yet clearly not well enough. "Sinning with Annie" takes a quirky look at an arranged marriage between two children from the perspective of the adult, prudishly westernized husband. "Words Are Deeds" starts with what appears to be a potentially exciting and risky erotic adventure that resolves quickly into bitter reality ("I hate that tie").

Set in the recent past, "The Imperial Icehouse" is an agonizing story about time that evokes its slow movement along with its decisive moments. "The sounds of the horses chewing, the dripping of the wagon in the heat; it was regular, like time leaking away" ties the preceding procession of the melting ice to the denouement, when "Mr. Hand raised his whip and rushed at John Paul . . . The ice was not larger than a man, and bleeding in the same way." In "After the War," the teenaged stranger masters the master of the house, opening the door for the man's unhappy family; " . . . the child . . . without warning arched his back in instinctive struggle and tried to get free of the hard arms which held him"--perhaps an allegory for what happened to colonial nations after the war. In the future of "Warm Dogs," a couple finds that is the children who possess them.

The stories in Parts IV and V are narrated by a fictional career Foreign Service officer who serves in Ayer Hitam, a backwater Malaysian village, and then London. A memorable exception is "Fury," the story of an expatriate American woman in which the narrator does not appear until after the shocking if not surprising climax.

These stories reveal Theroux's skill as a storyteller. They are recounted so vividly and objectively that they seem to be memoir, not fiction. The reader feels both the narrator's fascination and boredom with his surroundings and acquaintances and senses his emotional detachment and occasional rebelliousness. In particular, small and remote as it is, Ayer Hitam becomes a bottomless well of characters and stories, from the somewhat senile Sultan, the proud Japanese businessman who turns hatred to his advantage, the shaman who commands the tiger, and the anthropologist who gets too close to her subject to the feverish American who sees the ghosts of a local man's relatives. The narrator indulges in a few stories about his own lovers, but these are among the weakest tales. In these stories, Theroux is at his best when the voice he uses is most detached from the characters and their stories and at his weakest when his narrator loses his detachment by associating himself too closely with the group. For example, when he writes, "We rather disliked children; we had none of our own," his narrator loses the outsider status that gives these stories their believability, interest, and even poignancy. At times, however, this objective perspective is too observational and cold, for example, "She saw me and sat forward to let me kiss her, and she lingered a fraction as if posing a question with that pressure." The narrator's point of view is that of a raconteur rather than that of the person experiencing people and events; he writes about what he observed, not about what he felt or feels. Even during his erotic encounters, the narrator is ever the Foreign Service official, ready to observe and report.

As with any short story anthology, some of The Collected Stories are haunting and memorable, while others are almost instantly forgettable. Generally, I prefer the earlier stories to Diplomatic Relations (i): The Consul's File and Diplomatic Relations (ii): The London Embassy because they are less constrained, more inventive, and yet more real. While not a great short story writer like John Cheever, Paul Theroux is certainly a master storyteller who conceives stories worth telling.

This is one of the best short story collections I've ever read. Paul Theroux is expert at making the reader actually feel "there". The landscape descriptions and characterizations are first rate, and I enjoyed the "plot twists." Theroux excels in creating difficult and often unlikeable but always memorable characters ( read The Mosquito Coast, Millroy The Magician or The Black House if you want further proof. ) These stories are frightening, sad and funny. Highly recommended.