Blinding Light by Paul Theroux
Paul Theroux does not write bad fiction. It’s not in his genes.
Perhaps, once, years ago, he set out to write bad fiction, but his hands wouldn’t do the deed. It was a physical impossibility.
However, his immune system must be weakening with age, because “Blinding Light” seems to have slipped under his radar. We found gorgeous, dynamic prose bursting from the spine of “Hotel Honolulu”?a novel that truly showcases this author’s dynamic mastery of the craft. Theroux was right on target with “Dark Star Safari.” Here, it seems as though Theroux is trying to make a statement?a punchline?rather than a piece of art.
Slade Steadman, the author of a runaway bestselling success of a first novel, “Trespassing,” is the central character of the novel. He is self-absorbed and pretentious enough to be mistaken for a prolific writer, yet somehow he comes up dry after a single book. His one novel is about a ballsy traveller who jaunts around the world without a passport, passing uninvited into every developed country in the world while dodging trouble that lurks around ever corner. It was just cliche enough to sell in the mass volume paperback market.
Steadman seems to be all washed up. His marriage to his wife, Ava, is on the rocks but they’ve agreed to go together on a trip to Ecuador rather than wasting their non-refundable tickets. While on the trip, Steadman discovers a hallucinogenic drug that lets loose streams of creative thought, but may cause blindness in some users. As soon as this key detail is revealed, it’s obvious where the plot is headed. Theroux does not even attempt to throw the reader off his scent. The reader is left with a new novel from Steadman, a blind hack author, and a lame duck from Theroux.
Parts of the novel are bland. Theroux’s writing here has become almost formulaic, often repeating similar descriptions and sentence structures. Suspension of disbelief is one thing, but for a magical drug to make everything fall in place in a novel not clearly defined as science fiction spells h-a-c-k. Rather than allowing the plot to develop organically, tying up loose ends and weaving in new strands throughout the novel, Theroux chooses to lean on the supernatural to develop the plot. Large portions of the novel are littered with gratuitous erotic passages, as this same drug that spawns creativity also has effects on the body, specifically the lower hemisphere, similar to those of Viagra. One dose of the drug turns the user into an unsavory blend of William Falkner and Ron Jeremy. There did not seem to be any purpose for this side effect past Theroux’s desperate stab at appealing to the baser senses to move copies of “Blinding Light.” A thinly-veiled Bill Clinton character made a guest appearance for no good reason. “Blinding Light” seems to be a practical joke on the author’s publisher and reading public, a way for Theroux to learn just what’s in a name.
So, what’s in a name?
