My Unhappiness Protects Me From

In His Brilliant New Book Pankaj Mishra Reverses The Long Gaze Of The West Upon The East, Showing Modern History As It Has Been Felt By The Majority Of The World's Population From Turkey To China. These Are The Amazing Stories Of The Grandfathers Of Today's Angry Asians. Excellent!

When You Look Into The Faces Of These Quiet Creatures Who Don't Know How To Tell Stories--who Are Mute, Who Can't Make Themselves Heard, Who Fade Into The Woodwork, Who Only Think Of The Perfect Answer After The Fact, After They're Back At Home, Who Can Never Think Of A Story That Anyone Else Will Find Interesting--is There Not More Depth And More Meaning In Them? You Can See Every Letter Of Every Untold Story Swimming On Their Faces, And All The Signs Of Silence, Dejection, And Even Defeat. You Can Even Imagine Your Own Face In Those Faces, Can't You?

Sometimes I Would See Them Not As Mementos Of The Blissful Hours But As The Tangible Precious Debris Of The Storm Raging In My Soul.

I Identify With My Culture, But I Am Happy To Be Living On A Tolerant, Intellectual Island Where I Can Deal With Dostoyevsky And Sartre, Both Great Influences For Me.

Over Time, I Have Come To See The Work Of Literature Less As Narrating The World Than "seeing The World With Words." From The Moment He Begins To Use Words Like Colors In A Painting, A Writer Can Begin To See How Wondrous And Surprising The World Is, And He Breaks The Bones Of Language To Find His Own Voice. For This He Needs Paper, A Pen, And The Optimism Of A Child Looking At The World For The First Time.