Perhaps the best book by Roth that I have read so far. Before the theater, I read about 4 or 5 other of his works, but none were as good and complex.

You either love or hate Mickey Sabbath. Well, maybe you can do both at the same time, but love would prevail over hate. I didn't find anything inappropriate in this novel. Even the delirious or pornographic pages (I don't shy away from terms) are presented exceptionally and are not there for filler but are part of the world, the universe of the puppeteer who, after the death of his lover, Drenka, embarks on a kind of search for himself.

All of Sabbath's experiences are unique and draw you into their vortex like a magnet. You end up wondering if you have ever known a Sabbath or if one has ever existed.

Dear Philly R.,

You are truly a filthy and sick individual, a spinner of the most grotesque prose that one can imagine. Ever since reading Bataille's "The Story of the Eye," I have not encountered such a vile character as you. And yet, here you are, having the audacity to humanize him. What makes your sex-crazed, solipsistic, and manipulative Mickey Sabbath the most interesting of your characters (even more so than "The Swede" from "American Pastoral," I must confess) is his endless curiosity about others, which is disguised by a witty and arrogant veneer of sadistic soliloquizing. Mickey Sabbath is like what would happen if Nabokov's Humbert Humbert appeared on Duck Dynasty. I cannot fathom sympathizing with a man who urinates and masturbates on graves. But somehow, you, yes you Phil, managed to make it happen. I found myself, like Sabbath's naive friend Norman, worried for him, praying for his salvation, and hoping for a moment of reprieve. The more I read, the more I saw his tendency to cause others to hate him as a defense mechanism stemming from a deep, deep wound, which you so magnificently revealed in the most unholy exchanges.

It is ironic to name the most corrupted character after a holy day. It is truly remarkable. Your talent for making me care about the women whom Sabbath views from such an unreliable height of lust and loathing is truly astonishing. Just when you think Sabbath cannot isolate himself further from the world by swallowing every taboo he can possibly muster, he does something else that makes me pause, take a deep breath, and shake my head.

I read this book primarily in Milan, where I met my brother for a couple of days. I think it is fitting that I took this photo in the San Bernardino alle Ossa, a chapel constructed from human bones and skulls. Your novel, as I see it, is about how we choose to grieve or to run from grief, how we make deals with death, and the many hideous things we are capable of doing rather than mourning what we have lost. The more Sabbath wants to die, the less capable he feels of killing himself. It is his attachment to his hatred that makes it difficult for him to let go of the world, his clinging on to those who are gone, and his theatre of ghosts. It is simply Shakespearean.

I have said many times that this will be my year of Roth. Well, I have tasted the first of your bitter cup. I will take a moment to recover my palate for the next taste.

Best,

- Braden

Nerves of steel are an absolute necessity for this 450-page onslaught on decency, indecency, and all those things that are neither decent nor indecent but perhaps involve sexagenarians engaging in rather unseemly behavior in a teenage girl's knicker drawer. Mickey Sabbath is truly a monster, possessing an almost unstoppable appetite for sex, lechery, and outright molestation. He also has a penchant for completely shattering all the relationships between those human beings who strive to act like semi-respectable adults. Just like Simon Lynxx in D. Keith Mano's Take Five, he has this rather convenient ability to speak in extremely unlikely literary sentences, with a level of polished erudition that no Harvard graduate-cum-Oscar Wilde descendant could ever hope to achieve. Moreover, he is such an incredibly prickly prick that your patience and tolerance levels will be pushed to the absolute breaking point. At no point would this man's painful death be anything less than a welcome event. Instead of being locked up within five minutes for being a dangerous sexual deviant, Sabbath has managed to reach his mid-sixties, having a backlog of lovers with whom he has indulged in all his perversions. Currently, he is lamenting the death of his East European fantasy lover and his sacking from the position of professor of puppetry. Sabbath's Theater is a grotesque comedic reverie (and revelry), and should really be read as little more than an audacious, linguistically explosive piece of outré comedy. If you were to read it as a serious novel, you would no doubt find yourself aspiring to strangle Mr. Roth.

This book is a wild ride that challenges the boundaries of what is acceptable and takes the reader on a journey through the mind of a truly despicable character. It is not for the faint of heart or those with a delicate constitution. However, for those who are looking for something different and are willing to embrace the absurdity, Sabbath's Theater may provide a unique and entertaining reading experience.

Philip Roth was a writer with a highly controversial reputation.

It seems that people either love him or hate him, and this is definitely the case with "Sabbath's Theatre". The book's reputation has everything to do with its pornographic content.

However, rather than engaging in a semantic debate about what constitutes pornographic versus merely explicit writing, it's clear that Roth deliberately chose the former.

To be honest, while reading "Sabbath's Theatre", I often had to "swallow" (sorry for the obvious pun).

Superficially, the main character, Mickey Sabbath, a 64-year-old former puppeteer, appears as a sex addict and a pervert.

He can't get enough of his mistress, Drenka, and has all kinds of inappropriate sexual fantasies and behaviors.

But as the story unfolds, we see that there's much more to Sabbath's "amoral" state of mind.

He's been deeply affected by the deaths of those close to him, and his sex addiction is actually an intense attempt to cope with his feelings of loss and deprivation.

Roth successfully transforms the pervert he initially describes into a touching and pitiful older man.

Throughout the book, there are also many references to James Joyce's "Ulysses".

Mickey Sabbath can be compared to Leopold Bloom, and there are implicit and explicit nods to Joyce's masterpiece.

From a literary perspective, "Sabbath's Theatre" is a significant work that shouldn't be underestimated.

Despite its sometimes embarrassing descriptions, it's a captivating read with rousing rhetorical delights, hilarious scenes, and a powerful story.

Although the picaresque novel isn't my favorite genre, "Sabbath's Theatre" is undoubtedly a 20th-century masterpiece. (rating 3.5 stars)

Wow!

This is the second novel that I have read, written by Philip Roth. It has everything: absurd theater, comic scenes, a series of sexual perversions, and a spiritual journey to nowhere.

Mickey Sabbath is a puppet character that you can't forget: he shocks or displeases you, he annoys or pleases you; you hate him, but he attracts you.

Roth's writing is so vivid and engaging that it makes you feel as if you are right there in the story, experiencing everything along with the characters.

The themes explored in this novel are complex and thought-provoking, touching on issues such as sexuality, morality, and the meaning of life.

Overall, I would highly recommend this novel to anyone who enjoys reading literature that challenges and engages the mind.

Mickey Sabbath is the most autobiographical character I’ve ever created, Roth said to biographer Blake Bailey. But then, Roth is an author who’s built an entire career by exasperating readers.

When I think of Sabbath, I envision a raging 64-year-old former puppeteer. He seduces twenty-year-old women, alienates everyone who’s ever loved him, and snickers at any form of respectability. He even sniffs the stolen panties of teenage girls and either masturbates or urinates on his late mistress’ grave. Sabbath is like what you’d get if you took a nice guy and, with aggravating persistence, squeezed all decency out of him drop by drop. To compensate, Roth endowed him with generous amounts of sexual perversions and a propensity for speaking in delightful literary sentences. Roth also created one of my favorite characters ever, the unapologetic Drenka, who is Sabbath’s equal in every depravity imaginable.

If wickedness was all there was to Sabbath, this book wouldn’t be the masterpiece that it is. Assuming that one of the aims of literature is to teach empathy, with Sabbath your capacity for understanding will be greatly tested. The moment you start to admire something about him, he’ll spit in your face. He’ll do something so awful and deliberately shocking that your tolerance for him will be pushed to its limits. When you are ready to give up on him, he will surprise you with his humanity and tenderness. Sabbath is fragile, isolated, lonely, and in near constant physical pain. Imagining him alone, by the sea, taking stock of his life, mourning his mother, brother, first wife, and latest mistress, and contemplating suicide while holding his late brother’s belongings, it’s hard not to feel for him. But you’ll regret it.

Roth is a brilliant writer.

However, I can only give it 4 stars instead of 5. The reason is that I was forced to read the last 100 pages in a hurry. But I really want to go back and read them carefully again to enjoy them better.

In the end, there is the quadrature of the circle, but I won't reveal what it is.

Roth's works are always full of deep thoughts and unique expressions. His writing style is captivating and makes the reader immersed in the story. Although I didn't have enough time to fully appreciate the last part of this book, I believe that there are still many wonderful details and meanings hidden in it. I look forward to having the opportunity to read it again and discover more of its charm.

Modern Classic

Modern classic is a term that combines the elements of modernity and classicism. It represents a style or genre that takes the best of both worlds and creates something unique and timeless. In art, modern classic can be seen in the works of painters who use modern techniques and materials to create pieces that have the elegance and sophistication of classic art. In literature, it can refer to novels or poems that deal with contemporary themes but are written in a style that harks back to the great works of the past. In fashion, modern classic pieces are those that are both trendy and timeless, such as a little black dress or a tailored suit. Overall, modern classic is a concept that celebrates the beauty and value of both modern and classic art and design, and shows that they can coexist and complement each other.

Qui siamo oltre Portnoy oltre tutto. We are here beyond Portnoy and everything else. Il più grande depravato della letteratura di tutti i tempi. The greatest depraved one in the literature of all times. Lo schifoso il reietto della letteratura. The disgusting outcast of literature. Un figlio di puttana ecco chi era, chi è e chi sarà Mickey Sabbath. A son of a bitch, that's who Mickey Sabbath was, is, and will be. Qui Roth ha raggiunto l'apice della sua produzione. Here Roth has reached the apex of his work. Questo romanzo è una sinfonia di sublime bassezza un concentrato di perversione. This novel is a symphony of sublime baseness, a concentrate of perversion. È l'orrido che affascina. It is the horrible that fascinates. È lo schifo che sfonda la porta della nostra anima. It is the disgust that breaks through the door of our soul. La letteratura ha il potere di elevare gli abissi dell'animo umano. Literature has the power to raise the abysses of the human soul. Sabbath è presente in ognuno di noi. Sabbath is present in each of us.

A formidable novel, with a total sense of humor.

Morris (Mickey) Sabbath was a puppet artist. What he achieved would of course fall into what we now call street art. He pursued specialized studies in Rome, traveled across seas and oceans, and finally settled in New York, where he founded an Indecent Theater, whose shows were especially successful among the youth. Unfortunately, indecency is severely punished and Mickey is on the verge of being jailed for violating good morals. Suddenly and definitively abandoned by his first wife ("a fragile and unstable girl of Greco-American origin, with an all-pervading sense of crisis... until the day when the crisis of being herself simply wiped Nikki off the face of the earth"), the protagonist gives up his career as a traveling artist and retreats to a village in New England called Madamaska Falls. He marries Roseanna (a client of an "Alcoholics Anonymous" group) and meets the incredible, frenetic Drenka Balich, a "dark-haired Croatian from the Dalmatian coast" (p.13), the owner of a boarding house.

The woman's death wakes him up from a long erotic daze and prompts him to meditate on death. Not much longer, Mickey is tired. He still has, however, the power to rebel: "He couldn't die even if the devil himself wanted it. How could he leave? How could he go? Everything he hated was there" (p.517).

But how does Mickey Sabbath see happiness? Here's what Drenka tells him:

"What is happiness? The solidity of this woman. The mixture from which she is made. Her spirit, the strength of her character, her sharpness, the adipose tissue, the bombastic words with which she still indulges from time to time, that life-giving laugh..." (p.387).

I've always simply assumed that Philip Roth was one of those unimportant, presumably sexist white men from the 20th century that I'd never have to concern myself with. As it turns out, Philip Roth is all of those things - and also an absolute genius.

This book is incredibly messed up on so many levels. It is also a virtuoso performance, the work of a writer who is so damn good that he can extract heartbreak from farce, time and time again, and do it with a protagonist who, at his very best, is a complete jerk. What the hell, Philip Roth?

Roth's masterstroke is that Mickey Sabbath doesn't really have the last laugh. At crucial moments, other characters speak and act; we get their words, their letters. In that way, at least, it is a humane book. Sabbath's monstrous ego - for all that the entire book is spent under its spell - is not allowed to define the women he is so determined to screw (both literally and figuratively). We see more than enough of Nikki, Roseanna, Drenka, Michelle, Christa, Kathy, to imagine their realities, to see what Sabbath can't or won't. To move beyond his incomprehension.

This is a dreadful, disgusting book, and the only thing that makes it bearable is that there isn't a single word in it that doesn't ring true. It's funny, thank God - but it's not the kind of humor that lightens the darkness. All this pain in life, all this suffering, and it doesn't even have the decency to be dignified.

Reading this book was an incredibly interesting experience. I had firmly resolved not to let misogyny spoil my enjoyment of the past 3000 years of culture, and then along came Philip Roth. Besides the post-middle-age sexual liberation, everything else in the first half of the book made me seethe with hatred. The only female character he shows any respect for is a woman whose apparent life purpose is to fulfill every sexual fantasy of the protagonist, a woman so sexually ambitious that she "thinks like a man." Because "thinking like a woman," especially regarding sex, is considered more of a biocultural disease according to Philip Roth. He spends the next several hundred pages elaborating on this point, endowing every female character with the weakest, most callow, and particularly female traits: little girls in grown-up bodies, guilt-ridden, sexually repressed, attached to their victimhood, and constantly speaking in therapy language, blaming a man for all their self-caused suffering. And all of this is horrifyingly well-written.

I spent time thinking of scathing comments to write on Goodreads and even cursing Roth's future grave (hoping its location would become public knowledge and it would become a first date destination for teenage hipsters). Then, by chance, I came across the essay "On Not Being a Victim" by Mary Gaitskill, published in Harper's Magazine in 1994, the year in which the novel is set. It's a personal essay on the vagaries of date rape, but this passage about cultural consumption really stood out to me.

"I was a very PC feminist before the term existed, and, by the measure of my current understanding, my critical rigidity followed from my inability to be responsible for my own feelings. In this context, being responsible would have meant that I let myself feel whatever discomfort, indignation, or disgust I experienced without allowing those feelings to determine my entire reaction to a given piece of work. In other words, it would have meant dealing with my feelings and what had caused them, rather than expecting the outside world to assuage them." This is both topical and true. As horrified as I am by much of Roth's view of women, it's really not his job as an artist to make me feel better about things. He's a genius and a bully; he can take anyone's pain, invert it with satire, and bludgeon them to death with it. But his critique of feminism is not without several grains of truth, which is why it seemed so threatening to me in the first place. After reading Gaitskill's essay, I was able to go back to Sabbath's Theater as more of a participant and see it as a cultural object that I could respond to and critique.

Roth has had his moment as a protagonist and a subject, and I had fun making him an antagonist and an object for a while. The antagonist points out your weaknesses and allows you to test your mettle against him. The images he created made me angry at first because I felt they had power over me. By the end of the book, they didn't. I beat this book, and then I beat it again by liking it. It's hilarious and filthy and thoroughly imagined and completely insane. The last part, especially, is masterfully written. A Hail Mary that actually makes the main character sympathetic and the most tender and beautiful description of two people pissing on each other I have ever read.