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Our hero is superlative, too sensible, learns to read by himself, with no attainable reference points, and speaks French in a matter of days. I simply had to remind myself Burroughs was writing for an audience a lot less refined than the jaded reader of right now. I suppose it is good to often read a book written way back to experience attitudes and social norms that existed earlier than our current time. Although the writer just isn't unkind in his portrayal of native Africans, or a home black slave, I nonetheless experienced a sense of discomfort as I read these sections of the book.
