Mickey Sabbath is a complex and controversial character. The question of what the "theatre" of Sabbath truly is, as well as who Mickey Sabbath really is, looms large. Sabbath, a puppeteer, sees the world around him as his greatest stage. He is also one of the most despicable, base, and devious characters in literature. He is scandalous, irreverent, and libidinous, obsessed with sex in all its forms.

The first part of "The Theatre" is undeniably pornographic, with some scenes so crude they turn the stomach. However, Roth's masterful storytelling shines through. As the book progresses, a subtle change occurs. Roth reveals the cards up his sleeve and makes us truly understand who Sabbath is and what lies hidden in his sick mind.

It's不可思议 that we can feel empathy for a character like Sabbath. How can we empathize with someone who, while staying with a friend, can't resist snooping in the room of the friend's adolescent daughter, looking for pornographic pictures and stealing underwear to amuse himself? Or with someone who, while his wife is in rehab for alcoholism, doesn't miss a chance to try to arrange a tryst with another woman in rehab at the same center?

But Roth doesn't shy away from showing the more poetic side of Mickey Sabbath either. The Mickey Sabbath who walks around New York reciting "King Lear", or who buys a grave next to his parents' so he can be close to them a little longer. The Mickey Sabbath who remembers his young brother who died in the war, and the mother he couldn't talk to until after her death. The Mickey Sabbath who still mourns the inexplicable disappearance of his first wife, blaming himself to the point of accusing himself of her hypothetical murder.

In the end, it's death that is the great protagonist of this book. We struggled in judging "The Theatre of Sabbath". For the first part, more because of the annoyance than Roth's style, we might not have given more than three stars. But the last part reaches the highest narrative peaks, completely balancing out the first part. It's a book that must be read in its entirety, a character whose lifestyle we can't condemn, but who leaves an indelible mark on the reader. If this was Roth's objective, he achieved it perfectly, despite exaggerating and putting us to the test.

It's not that Billy Joel is my personal guru, but that phrase of his about preferring to laugh with the sinners rather than cry with the saints because the sinners are much more fun, I stick it right on the frontispiece of this book. That old libertine Mickey Sabbath is a colossal character. And the virtuosities of his perversions and his memories (or were they perhaps the perverse memories of his virtuosities?) demonstrate, to anyone who still had doubts in that regard, that the great sinners don't just create great cathedrals. They also create truly great novels.

Mickey Sabbath's story is a wild ride through the darker side of human nature. His actions and thoughts are both shocking and captivating, drawing the reader in and making them question their own moral compass. The way the author描绘s his character and his world is truly masterful, painting a vivid picture that is both disturbing and beautiful.

As we follow Mickey on his journey, we see the consequences of his sins and the toll they take on his life and those around him. But we also see the moments of redemption and the glimmers of hope that shine through the darkness. It's a complex and nuanced story that will stay with you long after you've turned the last page.

479 pages of the capers in the red lights of a pornographer, but it is Roth's writing that gives satisfaction

Roth - he surely doesn't miss a beat - has the ability to enclose the infinity of things told within an organized structure, to create people on the pages, to tell their story, their moods, rages, pains, passions, all set in the context in which they live. It is a precise and detailed writing that fascinates the mind and aims at the heart, even if the parts described here are different. This remains with the reader (at least for me) while Roth tells of Mickey Sabbath, a desecrator, a provocateur, an instigator, a corrupter, a sodomizer, a destroyer of morality, lascivious, without a sense of shame, exhibitionist, unemployed, maintained, low, pot-bellied, with a goatee, slovenly.

And the charm of literary creation continues to fascinate the reader, even when he is struck by disgust for Sabbath, for his theater of a degenerate who continuously descends to the lowest level of insults with which he systematically covers those around him. An insult to friendship, good taste, respect, dignity, hospitality, decency, not to mention morality. He wipes the slate clean around him. His life is not a parabola, neither ascending nor descending, his life is a flat line, Sabbath does not experience any evolution, he always remains the same. The only variation is that at a certain point he begins to suffer. Yes, he too suffers. At first for reasons that - since he has always behaved in the aforementioned way - border on the absurd, the height of the heights, as one usually says: he suffers because someone insinuates in him the doubt that his first wife did not disappear due to despair over his (Sabbath's) infidelity, but fled in turn with a lover because she was disgusted by his (Sabbath's) behavior. This throws him into discomfort, his role would be so secondary. Even more heavy is the blow he receives when he learns that the vital problem of his alcoholic second wife is not him, nor even his abandonment, but the suicide of her father that would have marked her existence. Sabbath begins to be destabilized, until he loses his balance when he is rejected by the wife of his producer.

The characterization of her and her way of thinking after Sabbath's advances is beautiful: "And so, during the night, lust and betrayal had been balled up by prudence, common sense, the brain... She had used (an excuse) to throw him out before he ruined everything she was enjoying... (The reason) was Sabbath (himself). Maybe he could still tell a story, but there was nothing else left of him that was even remotely attractive, not even the erection he had shown her. Everything that was left of his going all the way disgusted her. She too was brutal, dirty, cheating, but she was not yet uncontrollably desperate... (she doesn't give in)... The maniacal intoxication that will bring magic back into her existence is not me. She'd better look around carefully until she finds someone who is less blatantly kaputt".

Then something happens. We feel the love that Sabbath has felt and feels for his dead brother and for Drenka, his companion, lover, pornographer like him. And the love is palpable, it is recognized in the veneration for the few objects found belonging to the brother and in the care at Drenka's deathbed. Here the pain is evident, among other things a non-egotistical pain, not centered on self-pity, on the fact that in a short time he will be alone, but a pain caused by seeing her suffer. And he is a perfect assistant, he listens to her, they talk again about their past, their experiences, their regrets, they are a single entity, they love each other. But Roth does not want to hint at a happy ending and that ability to finally feel pain is not enough to redeem Sabbath, it only makes him more believable, there is something human in each of us (Cinderella also said that, but was unable to cite even one virtue of the cat Lucifer). Rather, Sabbath is desecrating and contemptuous until the end: "He couldn't die, damn it. How could he give up? Leave? Everything he hated was here".

A groundbreaking masterpiece, a book about loss, contains within it so much freedom that in some parts it is difficult to handle. Enormous Roth once again.

This book takes the reader on a profound journey through the complex emotions and experiences related to loss. It explores the various aspects of how one copes with the absence of something or someone dear. The author's writing style is both vivid and poignant, painting a vivid picture of the characters' inner turmoil and the challenges they face.

Roth's ability to create such a powerful and engaging narrative is truly remarkable. The book is filled with thought-provoking moments that make the reader reflect on their own experiences of loss and the meaning of life. It is a must-read for anyone who is interested in exploring the human condition and the power of literature to touch our hearts and souls.

In the growth of every man, there are those maturing adolescent days when testosterone sparkles through the veins, and the urge governs all parts. Every woman who breathes and walks is associated with allure, whether she is a bearded aunt or a neighbor on the verge of menarche. And as the body matures and affinities change, and a boy grows into a man, statistics once again step onto the scene and say that the average man thinks about sex 34 times a day. However, Miki Sabat thinks about sex 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Biochemically speaking, Miki has never strayed from that adolescent point.

In his youth, he was driven by a restlessness to cruise the tropical seas and have the rough hands of sailors pull him under the skirts of port prostitutes. When he came to New York as a street performer, he staged his shows where his fingers played the role of puppets. Sabat's unruly fingers were always in a race to unbutton someone's shirt, but then his eyes were green, his gaze was young, and his shoulders were broad.

So, let me introduce you to Miki Sabat in the present. He is 64 years old, bald on top, white-bearded on his face, hunched in the shoulders, pot-bellied, short in stature, and walks with a waddle. His clothes are like those of a tramp, there is not a penny in his pockets. His first wife fled in an unknown direction, the second into delirium tremens. His career ended long ago, arthritis has marred his fingers, and his long-time lover recently died. And while she has been fertilizing the earth from below for six months, Miki, who circles her grave and remembers 13 years of an incredibly depraved relationship with his Drenka, fertilizes the earth from above. Does it seem grotesque to you? Ha! But for Filip Rot, this is just the introduction. The warm-up. The opening. The scenes that sporadically follow would make Mr. Charles Bukowski blush like a blushing virgin Mary.

Whether you are a whore or a saint, an intellectual or a tramp, pregnant or underage, Miki has a thing for you, and he will tell and tell, this man, in essence, of a brilliant mind, will confuse and befuddle you, caress you imperceptibly, set you on fire or not, but Miki will not give up, not even when he is criminally pursued, nor when the local women's league would gladly publicly hang him for his lower drainage organ, because for Miki, life is lived as long as that same organ stands up.

If, however, the organ fails at some point, or the impulse for life is lost, Miki will find himself a plot of land, a little further from his family, from his long-dead brother who died in the war, and his mother who never recovered when her "good" son went to that other world. And as a vow, she has been reciting lessons and observing filth for three decades, letting them lie in the earth side by side like a nest of Polish mice, renting himself a small grave on the edge, where the circumcised Jews also deserve to die, and on the gravestone it will be written

Moris Sabat
Miki
Beloved womanizer, swindler,
sodomite, abuser of women,
destroyer of morals, corrupter of youth,
widower, suicide
1929 - 1994

Until then, life is a stage, and if you are on Sabat's unruly stage, you have to play it tough.

P.s. Filip Rot was probably a great pervert, but he was a mature, brilliant pervert, and this mature brilliant pervert wrote a brilliant book.

P.p.s. This is not an easy recommendation, because I suspect that this book will confuse, disgust, and befuddle many, and at some point, perhaps even tempt them to throw it in the fireplace and burn the room. However, if you like it, it will do so in a way similar to when you first see a French bulldog and it is ugly, wrinkled, cross-eyed, and has a big rear end, and yet you would pet it and domesticate it right away. From the grotesque to the brilliant, Sabat's stage is a complete, complete unique, an unforgettable crazy and wise book, and Miki Sabat is a unique character in world contemporary literature in general. And far from everything revolving only around the physical. Sabat's stage is also a journey into childhood, a story of loss, self-discovery, difference, and alienation. Filip Rot writes wisely and originally, and if at one moment he shocks you with his crudeness, in another he will serve you the pearls of a brilliant mind. That perfectly balanced equilibrium was quite enough for me, with this one read, to proclaim myself a fan of Filip Rot and embark on a search for his other works.

How could he kill himself now that he had Morty’s things? Something always came along to make you keep living, goddamnit.

— Sabbath

Well, it is Philip Roth, and there is no denying that he has an extraordinary gift for turning a phrase. His prose is like a finely tuned instrument, capable of producing the most beautiful and complex melodies. So, my mediocre rating should not serve as a deterrent to anyone who is considering reading this 1995 National Book Award winner.

However, it must be said that the sex-crazed 64-year-old Sabbath is not a protagonist who is easy to like. In fact, in anyone's worldview, he is likely to be seen as a rather despicable character. Much of the focus of the novel is on crude and often graphic descriptions of his thoughts and escapades. When his long-time lover dies, he contemplates suicide, and it is this consciousness of guilt that makes him a marginally more interesting character.

Although Sabbath's Theater is a comical novel in a twisted sense, the protagonist's contemplation of suicide did not seem very convincing to me. It is pretty clear that Sabbath is not depressed per se, but rather, he knows that he is a despicable guy and perhaps feels that he should end it all.

I will say that the last lengthy scene at the cemetery was masterfully wrought. It was nearly absent of the sexual descriptions that dominated and later distracted in the early part of the story. This scene brought a sense of closure and a glimmer of hope to what had otherwise been a rather dark and disturbing novel.

Overall, I would rate Sabbath's Theater as 3 stars. It has more literary value than the stars might indicate, but novels about irredeemable characters are simply not my usual cup of tea.

Philip Roth is in one of his best forms.

"The Theater of the Sabat" is a book about the 64-year-old Micky Sabat, who is the embodiment of the stereotype of a dirty old man.

It is a repulsive theme, in which the balance between the filthy, the crude, and the transgressive, on the one hand, and the tenderness of life and death, on the other hand, is among the most impressive achievements of Roth.

Roth explores the complex and often disturbing aspects of human nature through the character of Sabat.

The book delves into his desires, his obsessions, and his relationships, painting a vivid and unflinching portrait of a man on the verge of self-destruction.

Despite the unappealing subject matter, Roth's writing is masterful, drawing the reader in and making them care about Sabat's fate.

"The Theater of the Sabat" is a powerful and thought-provoking work that showcases Roth's talent as one of the greatest American novelists of our time.

Woah...this was majorly brilliant.

I was truly amazed by what I witnessed. It was like a magical moment that left me in awe.

The details, the execution, everything was just perfect.

It felt as if I was transported to another world, a world of pure genius.

I couldn't help but keep staring, my eyes wide open in disbelief.

This was not just something ordinary, it was extraordinary.

It had the power to inspire and leave a lasting impression on anyone who saw it.

I will definitely remember this moment for a long time to come.

It was truly a remarkable experience that I will cherish.

As usual, Roth is deeply obsessed with sex and death, two themes that are in many ways intertwined.

One might wonder if you are aware of how the female praying mantis mates, a rather gruesome and fascinating example of the connection between sex and death in the animal kingdom.

This particular work of Roth's seems less focused than some of his others. However, if you are willing to look beyond the fact that Mickey Sabbath is a rather despicable character, you might still find enjoyment in it.

Perhaps there are hidden depths and insights within the story that can be uncovered if one is able to overlook the flaws of the protagonist.

It is a testament to Roth's skill as a writer that even in a less focused work, there is still enough substance to engage the reader and make them think about the complex themes of sex and death.

Nada no mundo cumpre a sua promessa.

Sabbath era realista, tão ferozmente realista que aos sessenta e quatro anos desistira praticamente de estabelecer contacto com os vivos, quanto mais de discutir os seus problemas com os mortos.

O quarto dela era pequeno, recentemente pintado de um branco cintilante, e tinha duas janelas com cortinas e vista para o jardim da frente, uma cama de pessoa só, uma velha secretária de madeira e um toucador. Tudo o que alguém precisava, na realidade.

“Olá, Rosie.”

Não se surpreendeu por ela não saltar da cadeira para o abraçar. Mas quando Roseanna tirou os óculos de sol e disse timidamente, “Olá”… bem, a voz que ouvira pelo telefone não o fizera esperar tanta graça. Apenas catorze dias fora dos copos e afastada dele, e parecia ter trinta e cinco anos. A sua pele estava limpa e bronzeada, o cabelo, que lhe descia até aos ombros, brilhava, mais dourado do que castanho, e ela parecia ter recuperado até a largura da boca e aquele antigo e atraente espaço entre os olhos. Tinha um rosto francamente largo, mas há anos que as suas feições estavam a desaparecer dentro dele. Ali estava a origem simples do sofrimento de ambos: a sua espantosa beleza de rapariga comum. Em apenas catorze dias tinha despido a pele de duas décadas de vida malbaratada.

“Atrasar a vida como se atrasa um relógio no Outono. Tirar simplesmente o relógio-vida da parede e fazê-lo andar para trás, andar para trás até todos os nossos mortos aparecerem, como a hora oficial.”

“Tinha de pôr de lado o modo como aquelas pessoas teriam antipatizado com ele e o número das que ele próprio teria desprezado, tinha de esquecer o que tinham sido quando estavam vivas. Porque quando estamos mortos deixamos de ser insuportáveis. Isso aplica-se também a mim.”

“É preciso uma vida inteira para determinar o que importa, e nessa altura isso já deixou de existir. Bem, temos de aprender a adaptar-nos. O único problema é como.

Tentou encontrar uma razão para se levantar, quanto mais para continuar a viver.”

“Como podia partir? Como podia ir-se embora? Tudo quanto odiava estava ali.”

This text presents a series of profound and somewhat melancholy thoughts. Sabbath's extreme realism leads him to withdraw from the living and the dead. The description of the room is simple yet complete, suggesting a certain austerity. Roseanna's appearance after just fourteen days away is a surprise, with her newfound beauty and vitality. The idea of delaying life like a clock in autumn is a unique and thought-provoking concept. The protagonist also reflects on the need to put aside the antipathy and disregard of others, both in life and in death. The realization that it takes a lifetime to determine what matters, only to find it no longer exists, is a poignant one. Finally, the question of how to adapt and find a reason to continue living lingers, as does the dilemma of whether to leave or stay in a place filled with hatred. Overall, the text delves into themes of life, death, beauty, and the search for meaning.

In quanta stupidità dobbiamo calarci per giungere alla nostra meta, quali sconfinati errori bisogna saper commettere!

If someone were to tell you beforehand how many mistakes you would have to make, you would say no, sorry, it's impossible, find someone else; I'm too smart to make all those mistakes. And they would tell you, we have faith, don't worry, and you would say no, nothing doing, you need someone much more of a schmuck, much more of a cretin, but they would repeat that they have faith in you, that you will transform into a colossal cretin, making a commitment you can't even imagine, that you will make mistakes of a magnitude you don't even dream of... because it's the only way to reach the goal.

The more I read Philip Roth, the more I become aware of his greatness, of why he is so loved among readers. "The Sabbath Theater" is for now the novel that has shaken me the most and that I find of immense depth. It's always difficult for me to talk about certain books that give you so much that you are left in a kind of stasis. Obviously this reaction is very subjective, there are those who approach a book with a clear and cold mind and there are those who instead are involuntarily involved at an empathic level. Philip Roth has manipulated me and attracted me into his orbit like the student who is hypnotized by Sabbath's middle finger (those who have read the book will understand what I mean). It's an obscene, dirty, immoral, grotesque book, with the spotlights perpetually pointed at the most animalistic and uncivil nature of man and if for a moment of distraction the healthy principles, kindness or trust enter the scene, they are immediately set on fire and reduced to ashes or at most treated with Prozac for a catatonic survival. But within all this squalor, life pulsates violently.

"Yes, yes, yes, he felt an uncontrollable tenderness towards his filthy life. And a ridiculous longing to have more of it. More defeats! More disappointments! More deceptions! More solitude! More arthritis! More missionaries. If God wills, more (...). More entanglements in anything. For the sheer sensation of feeling tumultuously alive, there is nothing better than the seedy side of existence. I will never have been an idol of the crowds, but say what you will about me, mine has been a truly human life!"

Readers, get comfortable when the curtain rises with the first page of the book and to quote the author, don't judge the old puppeteer Sabbath too harshly, puppeted by life, trust him because he is a memorable character, and if it will disgust you at times (because it will happen), he will know how to take you also into unsuspected paradises.

It's a book with several levels of reading and in which the themes treated are really many but like a good puppeteer Philip Roth brings his show to a successful conclusion, his "Sex Fair" which is closely linked to life and death. A story that starts from the present and digs into the past until Sabbath's childhood, thus full of interactions, of insets between past and present, between cause and effect, between living and dying, between expectations and reality. This aspect thus gives a strong introspective imprint to the novel, full of considerations on human nature both through inner monologues, dialogues or direct interventions by the author. The narrative style is very rich and chameleon-like and reflects the great culture of the writer, in fact the literary and cultural references in a broader sense are very many and well inserted, a mosaic that dazzles. There is a lot of comedy, sarcasm, theatricality but also moments of a bare sincerity, nostalgia, pain, so much repressed pain that explodes in the end and at the end of reading one is left a bit like Sabbath, perplexed, suddenly escaped from this frenzy of reading.

"King in the kingdom of disillusions, emperor of broken expectations, man-god perpetually humiliated by putting a cross on it, Sabbath still had to learn that there is nothing, but really nothing, that goes as one would like, and his own obtuseness represented in some way a trauma."

https://www.qlibri.it/recensioni/roma...

I wanted to make a change and focus my mind on something other than the daily routine in Turkey, and even leave myself in the Roth desert if I wanted to.

When I finished the book, I didn't feel anything great, but for all the characters that I found annoying, starting with Sabbath, my heart was torn and empty. In the end, as I empathized with all of them and tried to truly understand the described life, I found myself.

The mother problem, the father problem, and the deep marks that these two divided worlds leave on a person. The life of an individual between everything passing and nothing passing. It is a sad, very sad story, Sabbath's Theater.

In the second half of the book, the literary flavor and depth are quite successful. I really liked this other half, very much. The last hundred pages are wonderful. There are dialogues with Sabbath's friend Norman on these pages, and there are very well-written, impressive lines.

In summary, I'm not a fan of Roth, and in fact, I question his lack of filtering. I can't understand the contribution of the pornographic narration he prefers to literature. Since I can't say that this situation, which I think has no contribution, diminishes the literary value of his texts, I sometimes cross paths with the author.

For the reasons I mentioned, I also understand the absence of expressions like "3rd edition - 5th edition, etc." in P. Roth's books and the distance of the reader. However, Sabbath's Theater is a good book, if not for everyone.