Regarding Naipaul’s dickishness, I do agree (i.e., with Jesse) that it is counterproductive at best to judge the work too much in light of the artist. One could always Godwin the argument: Is there a valid reason to use a Hitler oil painting as, say, the backdrop of your new marketing campaign because the image painted happens to be what you are looking for? No, of course not, but hardly anybody is hitler.

But this is a little like being annoyed about watching a film with John Travolta because he’s an actor who is a Scientologist, vs. being annoyed about watching a film with John Travolta because he has been known to insist that other actors he work with be Scientologists.

Whatever Naipaul is up to in his writing, he’s a writer who has come out and said that only males can be good writers and females not (I oversimplify). That is a special subset of asshole.

‘considering that a large part of the value, or at least so I thought, of Naipaul is in providing us first-world slobs a tangible way of linking to some “Others” in an “other” place’

I disagree entirely. The value of Naipaul is that he says things brown people often don’t say because when hiding behind a convenient multiculturalism. Take this passage in ‘A Bend in the River’:

They! When we wanted to speak politically, when we wanted to abuse or praise politically, we said “the Americans,” “the Europeans,” “the white people,” “the Belgians.” When we wanted to speak of the doers and makers and the inventors, we all – whatever our race – said “they.” We separated these men from their groups and countries and in this way attached them to ourselves. “They’re making cars that will run on water.” “They’re making television sets as small as a matchbox.” The “they” we spoke of in this way were very far away, so far away as to be hardly white. They were impartial, up in the clouds, like good gods. We waited for their blessings, and showed off those blessings – as I had shown off my cheap binoculars and my fancy camera to Ferdinand – as though we had been responsible for them – V.S. Naipaul, A Bend in the River

*That* is what he’s about. Plenty of the more nationalist third-worlders (and I can speak from experience of Indians) never ever really think they need to bite the bullet about the West or its cultures. Imperialism-racism talk is all that’s supposed to be produced. Naipaul’s ‘value’, if I may characterize it, is in getting third world literati steeped in their Said to self-inspect and occasionally feel like crap.

A comment upstream excoriates Naipaul for dissing the culture of Trinidad. Someone’s got to do it, he’d respond. That there’s no way of saying with a straight face (unless you devolve right to ‘all cultures are equally valuable’) that it’s a particularly distinguished culture. He’s also dissed (repeatedly) Indian and various Middle Eastern cultures. The dissing is the point, really.

I mean, I can think of a lot of great scientists who were kind of dickish — think of how many female scientists were handed the short end of the stick not so long ago (Rosalind Franklin comes to mind, and she got stiffed at the hands of luminaries such as Watson and Crick).

And can you honestly name a great rock musician who isn’t a self-important jerk at some point? It seems to be a requirement. There’s an early interview with Dylan and a London correspondent for Time that illustrates the point. John Lennon — man, what a jerk sometimes.

I love Harlan Ellison’s work. But he is a curmudgeon of the first order. So what? Arthur C. Clarke has written things that are great, and also skirted perilously close to a VS Naipaul like misogyny. Orson Scott Card went from humanist to crazy land in just two books. (I always tell people to read Pastwatch and compare it to his other work).

The list goes on. People do what they do. It doesn’t have to make any sense, and being part of an oppressed group is no guarantee you will have a whit of sympathy for another oppressed group.

Considering that a large part of the value, or at least so I thought, of Naipaul is in providing us first-world slobs a tangible way of linking to some “Others” in an “other” place, this apparent misogyny is actually unforgivable. I’d sooner ignore misogyny or other badness in attitudes or lifeways of, say, a Tom Clancy or a Dan Brown as long as it wasn’t in their writing. Like I ignore Scientology in so many actors.

Maybe he just has a brain tumor or something.

One question this generates for me is, if he can make this kind of huge error in thinking, what else is he getting wrong?

http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2011/06/the-damned-mob-of-scribbling-women/239882/#comment-217305475

It features a comment by Hilzoy and has a follow-up post:

http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2011/06/pride-and-prejudice/239908/

What do you do when the art is great, but the artist isn’t? No widespread agreement except that if the artist is still alive, try not to financially reward the author by buying a new copy.