At first a memoir full of delightful phrases and descriptions, the reader soon becomes aware that the narrator is very prideful of his bloodlines. However he seems to be honest about who he is and aware of his appearance being less than handsome. He tells of his life in ways that seem very forthright, characterized by his pride. That is the first part of the book. The second part is seductive, full of description of life in Ceylon, and a bit more true to his life. The third part is a letter. All of these add up to a portrait of a time and a man who are at the end of their usefulness. The future beckons. The narrator?s time is past. And the surprising conclusion blends each into a satisfying whole.
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