THEIR HEADS ARE GREEN AND THEIR HANDS ARE BLUE by Paul Bowles

THEIR HEADS ARE GREEN AND THEIR HANDS ARE BLUE

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KIRKUS REVIEW

Travels through the heated, hugger-mugger splendors of North Africa, India and Turkey, from that American expatriate and exotic, Paul Bowles. Sometimes exceptional, sometimes only dimly diverting, the accounts- while celebrating a Sahara oasis, like ""a well-kept Eden"", or the pink dust of the plains of Marrakech, or Ceylonese coolies and Buddhism with its ""gentle agnosticism and luxuriant sadness""- all have a more or less valedictory air, with the author regretting the westward march of events and the passing of the primitive and picturesque. According to Bowles, words like ""progress"", ""modernization"", or ""democracy"" mean nothing in the East; nevertheless, commercialization and nationalism are just about everywhere cracking up colorful cultures and religious resonance. The author observes natives and colonials, hashish and highballs, flea markets and medinas with his customary cool, crisp romanticism; and his-inventory of Istanbul is a small, sparkling joy.

Pub Date: Aug. 26th, 1963
Publisher: Random House