SOURCE: Naipaul, V. S. “The Writer.” New Statesman 71, no. 1827 (18 March 1966): 381-82.

In the following review of Exhumations, Naipaul offers a mixed reaction to Isherwood's detached narrative style.

Isherwood says that this annotated compilation—of stories, reviews and magazine pieces done over nearly 40 years—is ‘chiefly for those who feel some interest, never mind how slight, in my writings and, hence, in me.’ The circumstances are special, but the plea is unnecessary. Isherwood has always been one of those writers, like Maugham and Hemingway, who have invited an interest in what we might call their professional personalities.

The writer, in spite of all that has been said about society's indifference to him, is a glamour-figure. As prophet, as journal-keeper or letter-writer, as traveller and observer, deviser of tales or magician with words, he has always been felt to be above society; he is the last free man. The exploitation...