Naipaul's Vernacular Cosmopolitans

The one occasion on which I glimpsed V.S. Naipaul, in a self-service Indian restaurant beside the British Library, I heard more than saw him. I was weaving my way through crowded tables, uneasily balancing an overflowing plate of curries, lentils, and condiments, when a word wafted past like a great cloud trapped in an airless room.

"Civili ... zayshun," someone said in a polished Oxford voice, a touch maudlin, with the merest trace of a Trinidadian lilt that softens consonants and

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