Above: I love the look of this first-edition cover.
Just read The Mystic Masseur by V.S. Naipaul. The story is about a man named Ganesh, who lives in a remote village in Trinidad and loves to read more than anything. He posts a sign calling himself a Mystic, writes a book inspired by his toilet-paper holder, and soon brings glory and the first paved road to his village. Most of the story takes place in the 1940's. When I read this paragraph I laughed out loud because the description sounds like some of my blogs (endless, minute examinations of the state of my soul).
"And at about the same time Ganesh discovered the Hollywood Hindus. The Hollywood Hindus are Hindus who live in or near Hollywood. They are holy, cultivated men who issue frequent bulletins about the state of their soul, the complexities and variations of which are endless and always worth description." (p. 106)