Jeff Greenwald is a funny writer--we should get that out of the way first. From the first page of Mr. Raja's Neighborhood (never mind the title!), I smiled--Greenwald is both humorous and wise in his prose. One other thing on his style: few writers I've read are as brave or creative with a simile, and that makes for lively reading which, in certain instances, borders upon the sublime. But back to Mr. Raja's Neighborhood--the book's premise (it is non-fiction) is that Greenwald has come to Kathmandu, Nepal to write a novel. He felt he had to leave his home in Santa Barbara, California to do this. The catch: he gets half-way around the world and can't write anything. So Mr. Raja's Neighborhood becomes a book about not writing a book--an un-book, if you will. At times, and between laughs, you feel as if you are sitting up with a slightly un-sober Greenwald in his flyblown, noisy, cluttered Kathmandu flat while he neurotically tries to create the novel that, as the pages turn, you begin to realize he will not. And we might be the better for it. Because of Greenwald's year-long case of writer's block, we read his letters home, his journal musings, his abstract (and abject!) thoughts on life in Nepal. Even a newspaper clip published in The Kathmandu Post is included. When finally sandwiched between two covers, Mr. Raja's Neighborhood is a relatively light-hearted spin upon a rather serious theme: one man's struggle with himself and his acceptance--artistically, anyways--of his mortality. One other note: for any traveler who has found him or herself living in Kathmandu for an extended period of time, this book is a must read for its often hilarious insights and observations upon Nepali culture and customs.
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