Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Book Review: Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
Writing Style-6.5
Originality-8.2
Plot-1.2
Literary Merit(whatever that means)-8.4
Overall-6.4
I thought going into this book that I would either love or hate it, but surprisingly I simply just like it fairly well.
About the first 40 pages were nearly unbearable. They made absolutely no sense to me I must confess. I started practically skimming and chugged along simply because I hate to quit on books, especially in the first couple of hundred pages or if the book is less than 300 pages total. [For example, a post is coming soon in which I talk about a book that I recently gave up on at page 200 out of 500.]
After this schizo-drunken introduction, it calms down quite a bit. Then it is simply Miller’s day-to-day life in gay Paree, which pretty much consists of living on little or no money, bumming from his friends, drinking, and last but certainly not least, sleeping with whores. I guess it’s the honesty about his obsession with the whores and their Cunts, really the female Cunt in general, that most people come away with from the book.
There is absolutely no plot whatsoever, so if you are a fan of plot, this book is not for you. The writing is pretty beautiful though. I mean, he’s no James Agee IMHO, but if a guy can get you to read 300 pages of absolute nothingness then he’s obviously a pretty talented wordsmith.
The one anecdote that stood out however was a story about Miller taking a religious kid who was coming off a two year vow of celibacy to a whorehouse. The kid didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to shit in the bidet in the whore’s bedroom. So, he shits, the whore goes off on him and kicks him out and he is terribly embarrassed and takes it as a sign that he shouldn’t have been preparing to copulate with a whore and renews his vow of celibacy. I think that if this story were taken out of the novel, it would stand on its own very well and be a classic short story. I loved it.
So, we have to ask the question—what’s the big deal with this book? Why is it so popular and why do some people hate it? Well I think there are a number of factors at work. The first that comes to mind is the identifiable and brutally honest glorification of the Female Reproductive Organs [or FRO]. This is at the same time intriguing, comforting, and repellant. At the same time that he glorifies women he must also degrade them. This paradox, common in men, is extremely interesting and always makes for good reading. In short, this book is grossly misogynistic.
It’s also grossly self-absorbed and egotistical. This book actually rivals Armies of the Night by Normal Mailer as the most self-absorbed, egotistical book that I have ever read. This facet of the novel is also fascinating and disgusting at the same time. I think that there is a brand of depressive, artistic genius that is so sensitive to the suffering of the world that they must become wrapped up in self-gratification constantly, often to the point of addiction, for the sake of self-preservation. I think that ultimately this might be the root of these paradoxes. In other words, someone may be so attuned to what’s wrong with the world or themselves that they can’t live with the world as it is or as most do and they end up hating themselves. In order to cope, they must become self-absorbed and withdrawn. I think that often this self-absorption is accompanied by drug addiction, alcoholism, sex addiction, and so forth and sometimes just plain dropping out of society or moving around a lot or ramblin’ so to speak.
At any rate, this self-absorbed artistic genius motif also makes for interesting reading. Many people are drawn to this type of person, and many people hate them because they feel like they should buck up and not be so worthless. [Many I think are jealous that they don’t have the social excuse to go off and do these things themselves.]
So, the book is misogynistic, egotistical, and plotless? Yes, I’m afraid so. But, you know, by the time I finished it, I was strangely charmed. Not that I plan to go read Tropic of Capricorn any time soon, but I’m really glad that I picked this one up and slogged through the rough parts. It’s really great writing and Miller is simply an intriguing character and you get to go deep into his mind as he goes about his daily life as a starving, horny artist in Paris. Good times.
Originality-8.2
Plot-1.2
Literary Merit(whatever that means)-8.4
Overall-6.4
I thought going into this book that I would either love or hate it, but surprisingly I simply just like it fairly well.
About the first 40 pages were nearly unbearable. They made absolutely no sense to me I must confess. I started practically skimming and chugged along simply because I hate to quit on books, especially in the first couple of hundred pages or if the book is less than 300 pages total. [For example, a post is coming soon in which I talk about a book that I recently gave up on at page 200 out of 500.]
After this schizo-drunken introduction, it calms down quite a bit. Then it is simply Miller’s day-to-day life in gay Paree, which pretty much consists of living on little or no money, bumming from his friends, drinking, and last but certainly not least, sleeping with whores. I guess it’s the honesty about his obsession with the whores and their Cunts, really the female Cunt in general, that most people come away with from the book.
There is absolutely no plot whatsoever, so if you are a fan of plot, this book is not for you. The writing is pretty beautiful though. I mean, he’s no James Agee IMHO, but if a guy can get you to read 300 pages of absolute nothingness then he’s obviously a pretty talented wordsmith.
The one anecdote that stood out however was a story about Miller taking a religious kid who was coming off a two year vow of celibacy to a whorehouse. The kid didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to shit in the bidet in the whore’s bedroom. So, he shits, the whore goes off on him and kicks him out and he is terribly embarrassed and takes it as a sign that he shouldn’t have been preparing to copulate with a whore and renews his vow of celibacy. I think that if this story were taken out of the novel, it would stand on its own very well and be a classic short story. I loved it.
So, we have to ask the question—what’s the big deal with this book? Why is it so popular and why do some people hate it? Well I think there are a number of factors at work. The first that comes to mind is the identifiable and brutally honest glorification of the Female Reproductive Organs [or FRO]. This is at the same time intriguing, comforting, and repellant. At the same time that he glorifies women he must also degrade them. This paradox, common in men, is extremely interesting and always makes for good reading. In short, this book is grossly misogynistic.
It’s also grossly self-absorbed and egotistical. This book actually rivals Armies of the Night by Normal Mailer as the most self-absorbed, egotistical book that I have ever read. This facet of the novel is also fascinating and disgusting at the same time. I think that there is a brand of depressive, artistic genius that is so sensitive to the suffering of the world that they must become wrapped up in self-gratification constantly, often to the point of addiction, for the sake of self-preservation. I think that ultimately this might be the root of these paradoxes. In other words, someone may be so attuned to what’s wrong with the world or themselves that they can’t live with the world as it is or as most do and they end up hating themselves. In order to cope, they must become self-absorbed and withdrawn. I think that often this self-absorption is accompanied by drug addiction, alcoholism, sex addiction, and so forth and sometimes just plain dropping out of society or moving around a lot or ramblin’ so to speak.
At any rate, this self-absorbed artistic genius motif also makes for interesting reading. Many people are drawn to this type of person, and many people hate them because they feel like they should buck up and not be so worthless. [Many I think are jealous that they don’t have the social excuse to go off and do these things themselves.]
So, the book is misogynistic, egotistical, and plotless? Yes, I’m afraid so. But, you know, by the time I finished it, I was strangely charmed. Not that I plan to go read Tropic of Capricorn any time soon, but I’m really glad that I picked this one up and slogged through the rough parts. It’s really great writing and Miller is simply an intriguing character and you get to go deep into his mind as he goes about his daily life as a starving, horny artist in Paris. Good times.
