An area of darkness Book

O my God, did V S Naipaul get out of bed the wrong side every single day of his life? His Mr Grumpy routine gets so tiring you wish you could visit a poor woodworker in Delhi with him just so you could grab him and force his head into a vice and leave him there. ("Not letting you out till you cheer up old boy!"). The next time VS Naipaul rings me up and suggests a swift half of Tetley's at The Gladstone I'm going to tell him to call round at my house first. Then when he turns up I'm going to chloroform him, drag him into a white van, drive him to an abandoned warehouse (these things always take place in abandoned warehouses), bind him to a chair, and when he wakes up compel him to watch all seven series of Curb Your Enthusiasm back to back without a break, then truss him up like a turkey again, drive to the nearest motorway services, wait for an open-topped lorry with any kind of vegetables in it and shove him in there with just one foot exposed. The last bit would be my homage to Hitchcock's Frenzy, which is his last great film.

If that doesn't cheer him up, nothing will.