I also swapped this one. It was at the end of the season I worked in Menorca (summer 97) and I swapped it for one of my uniform polo's. It was one of the big ones that always tempted me from the shelf, but I never got round to starting it. I actually forgot that it even had an insription from the previous owners, John and Sophy, wishing me well. Thanx!
It is a fictional book, even though most people will know Theroux from his travel writing. Several stories about the same main character in different periods of his life, different places of the world. Another biggie, but also one I finished quicker than expected. Says enough.

excellent growing up, Medford Peace corps, London, cape
- Secret lies in letting go of things

The story of Andre Parent, a writer, a world traveller, a lover of every kind of woman he chances to meet in a life as varied as a man can lead. It begins with his days as a Massachusetts altar boy, when his first furtive sexual encounter introduces him to the thrills of leading a double life. As a teenaged lifeguard, Andre finds himself caught between the attentions of a beautiful young student and an amorous older woman. Soon he is in Africa, where the local women are numerous, easy, and free. And as the boy becomes a man he turns his attention to writing, which brings him fame, and a wife, who may finally cause him to know himself. But not before he sets up his most dangerous secret life, one that any man might envy, but that could cost Andre Parent the delicate balance that makes him who he is.

Reading this book made me dislike Paul Theroux, something I eventually got over. I was horrified by how the main character took his wife and, later, girlfriend to all the same places on the same tour. Maybe that's just me. ( )

The prequal to his acclaimed *My Other Life*, *My Secret History* is also a masterful work of narrative and characterization, imbued with grace, humor, and humanity. It demonstrates a young man's coming-of-age stuggles more astutely than any book I've read.

The first section, dealing with the semi-autobiographical narrator's youth, is a satisfying read. Then the protagonist grows up. He becomes a dull, selfish, philanderer, and the tone of the writing itself seems more plodding as well. Theroux's narrator is a womanizer, which is forgiveable, but unfortunately he's also a supercilious bore, which is not. was angry with his dismissive attitude of women - "anything I want" - and later, his too soon forgiving wife. Women seemed ornaments to him - as were many characters and even locations in this novel - richly described, but only in terms of their utility to him. When no longer needed, the strongest of women looked weak - particulary Eve.

Theroux is a gifted writer and, despite these misgivings, I found this book very hard to put down. I think I'll have to go back and reread the sequel. ( )