Bowles explores existentialism in this novel about an estranged couple, Port and Kit, travelling to Africa after the Second World War. 

What happens to us when we move outside what is familiar? Do we want to be free, or want to belong?

Though I loved the novel overall, especially since I like character based novels, I was troubled by the reoccurring generalisation (/racism) of the Africans by the characters and by Bowles’ misogynistic view on women. That last became especially to the surface in the last part of the book. 

However, I did some research and while above is true, I also understand that Bowles wrote it to norms of his time and that he is shattering the Western ego in a way too (spoiler coming!) … as our MC’s do not end up well. Not being able to find freedom. Or comfort. Or even survival.
This doesn’t justify the remarks and misogyny in any way though. 

All in all, this is a complex novel, well written, interesting themes, great ending, but with some troubling elements that unfortunately influenced my reading experience.

I can see why this book was impactful for its time and its critique of America however its critique fails to be completely realized as the ethnocentric mindsets of all the European charachters remains unconfronted. Their pride, lack of resolve, indecisiveness and ignorance are examined but not from the perspective of post-orientalist theory. Rather the issue is laid out as "civilized" Americans in "uncivilized" Africa. This author would have benefitted from a discussion with Edward Said but we perhaps cannot blame him for not seeing how anti-orientalist theory would develop decades after this book leaving this narrative a less than timeless critique of the American and European mindset. 

The blurb that inspired me to check this out of the library called it a "classic work of psychological terror," which I guess is one way to describe racists being racist.

There are a few really brilliant passages in here about (non-racial) alienation, existentialism, ontological breakdown. Unfortunately, those are weighed down by 300 pages of rich hipsters being painfully stylishly detached from any human feeling at all, and the plot only makes sense under the assumption that Protagonist 2 has been riding the edge of a psychotic break for years, which isn't borne out by how she's written. The author acknowledges that she's a terribly written character, and an inordinately passive one; "then why did you write her like that" remains unanswered.

I have never read a book with a whole cast of characters I hated more and one that also took forever to go off the rails in a truly horrible way. The only satisfaction I had reading was a particular man getting slapped, a simulacrum of which can be easily found on Youtube without putting yourself through this book. I couldn’t content warn for a loss of sanity, which occurs in the third section.