A secret that Coleman Silk keeps until the end is hidden in the heart and between the lines of the novel. To live one life, rather than another, in the shadow of an overbearing truth.

To make oneself different in order to appear the same.

Philip Roth has an unmistakable style.

Direct and precise, the author delineates the profile of the characters, stripping them of any grammatical quirk. Coleman, Faunia, and even Nathan Zuckerman offer themselves to the reader, steeped in humanity, with the flaws and limitations that follow.

The words acquire thickness, rhythm, and features as harsh as they are sharp, almost becoming tangible.

It is a book that I liked very much, and I realize it even more now; while I am choosing the most appropriate words to tell its story, I discover new details and undertones that I have superficially overlooked.

Is there a limit, moral or otherwise, in denying oneself?

To what extent is it really allowed to hide what one is?

Is it possible to lead an entire life without revealing the reality of one's being?

Full version here: http://startfromscratchblog.blogspot....

3.5 stars.

It is true that there are certain aspects of reading Philip Roth that can be rather irritating. His writing can at times be overly wordy, and he has a fixation on elder men who are preoccupied with sex, whether or not it is related to prostate issues. Additionally, his storylines are often interrupted by the introduction of new characters with extensive biographical backgrounds. However, after having read 4 of Roth's works, I must admit that I am truly under his spell.

I am particularly impressed by the depth to which Roth can delve into the soul of a character and how he illustrates the human inability to truly know how things are or to really understand another person, even those who are very close. And what always recurs is that his main characters repeatedly deceive themselves more than they deceive others; they all build their lives on deliberate or unconscious lies or faulty obsessions. Roth is a true late-twentieth-century Balzac, set in a very typical eastern-coast, Jewish context.

In 'The Human Stain', all of these typical elements are present, both the annoying and the impressive ones. I will not provide a synopsis as that would give away the plot. Suffice it to say that the main character is Coleman Silk, a man who breaks with his past and completely constructs his own identity based on a big secret, but who also falls because of that secret. This sounds like a Greek tragedy, and that is no accident as the protagonist is a professor of classical languages.

Throughout the book, Roth provides numerous examples of his stylistic and psychological mastery. Just one example (page 335): "The man who decides to forge a distinct historical destiny, who sets out to spring the historical lock, and who does so, brilliantly succeeds at altering his personal lot, only to be ensnared by the history he hadn’t quite counted on: the history that isn’t yet history, the history that the clock is now ticking off, the history proliferating as I write, accruing a minute at a time and grasped better by the future than it will ever be by us. The we that is inescapable: the present moment, the common lot, the current mood, the mind of one’s country, the stranglehold of history that is one’s own time. Blindsided by the terrifyingly provisional nature of everything." Now, can anyone capture reality better than this?

Furthermore, in this book, there are a few truly captivating female characters (Steena, Faunia) that significantly modify Roth's reputation as a portraitist of stubborn elder men. And I do concede that the story sometimes stumbles; masterpieces like 'American Pastoral' and the unruly 'Sabbath's Theater' were much more homogeneous than this one. But despite all the critical comments that can be made, I think I am finally going to place Roth among my favorite authors.

Reading Philip Roth is truly an extraordinary experience. It's almost a spooky, sexual encounter with his words. I'm well aware that this description might sound absurd, trite, or even hyperbolic. However, with Roth, there's an undeniable carnal power, a spectral courage, energy, and life within his writing. It's like witnessing an absurdly talented musician push the boundaries of what's possible with an instrument or sound. When I read Roth, I can fathom how the audience in Paganini's era might have wanted to burn him for witchcraft, fearing his supposed deal with the Devil. I'm not certain who Roth sold his soul to, but his sequence of novels: Operation Shylock (1993), Sabbath's Theater (1995), American Pastoral (1997), I Married a Communist (1998), and The Human Stain (2000) is nothing short of remarkable. It can be regarded as the greatest run of novels by any writer at any time. Maybe Shakespeare or Proust had a better streak, but for me, these five novels, culminating with The Human Stain, represent the apex of 20th-century writing. It's truly spooky.

“The danger with hatred is, once you start in on it, you get a hundred times more than you bargained for. Once you start, you can't stop.”
― Philip Roth, The Human Stain

Mr. Roth,

Your writing, I must say, is rather lackluster. The prose you produce is banal, filled with elementary gimmicks that fail to capture my interest or endear you to me, sir. If, in the future, a thought happens to enter your mind and you wish to pen it down, let me offer you some advice. First and foremost, I suggest that you hide or perhaps even burn every John Updike novel that you've been snuggling with each night before sleep. This will help you break free from the influence that might be hindering your own unique style. Next, go and acquire a fistful of fresh adjectives. These will add color and depth to your writing, making it more engaging and interesting. And finally, don't forget to wipe your nose. Far too much of your personal idiosyncrasies seem to find their way onto the page, sir, and unfortunately, none of it does you any credit.

Many people may be impressed by the fact that you wrote American Pastoral. However, I warn you that I am not so easily amused. I look for substance, originality, and a certain je ne sais quoi in the writing I encounter. Your work, as it stands now, falls short of these expectations.

With a careful eye,

Vincent Saint-Simon

There is a word within the book that characterizes it, "inescapable", and a phrase from the Preacher that completes it, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity".

This word "inescapable" implies that there is something within the book that cannot be avoided or escaped. It suggests a sense of inevitability, as if the content of the book holds a certain power or significance that cannot be ignored.

The phrase from the Preacher, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity", further emphasizes this idea. It implies that everything in life, including the words and ideas within the book, is ultimately empty and without true meaning. However, despite this seeming nihilism, the book still holds a certain allure or importance, perhaps because it forces us to confront the reality of our own existence and the limitations of our understanding.

Overall, the combination of these two elements, the word "inescapable" and the phrase from the Preacher, creates a sense of mystery and depth within the book, inviting readers to explore its pages and grapple with its ideas.

4.5

Pata asta pe care toți o lasăm în urmă, viața însăși, nu este identitatea pe care ne chinuim să ne-o construim, ci ceea ce trăim efectiv. Nu știu alt scriitor care să se lupte mai bine cu marile teme, ca Iakov cu îngerul, construindu-și singur scara din cuvinte.

In Pastorala era marele vis american corupt, în M-am măritat cu un comunist era fariseismul maniacilor anticomuniști, aici e bigotismul burgheziei ultraeducate. Cu rasism și traume post-Vietnam, cu personaje de o forță care rupe paginile. Mai ales Faunia (Roth are un fel de a construi personaje feminine pe care le iubești sau le urăști, oameni, nu caricaturi, cum nu știu dacă o mai fac alți scriitori, mai ales barbați). De fapt, în toată Trilogia americana e despre ipocrizia societății, despre identitate și razvrătire, inadaptare.

Petei îi dau 4.5* doar pentru că celelalte două au fost magnetice, copleșitoare și ea pierde puțin prin comparație, după mine. În general, această carte este o explorare profundă a unor teme complexe și importante, oferind o vedere asupra societății și a identității umane într-un mod captivant și provocator. Autorul a reușit să creeze personaje memorabile și să prezinte o poveste care te face să te gândești asupra lucrurilor din viețile noastre.

“The stain that exists before its sign. That exists without the sign. The stain so intrinsic that it requires no sign.” This profound statement sets the tone for the complex web of lives and experiences in the story of Coleman Silk and the characters who populate his existence.

There are stains and stains in their lives. Primal stains, similar to original sin, for which no blame can be attributed to the protagonist and his companions on the adventure. And then there are the stains caused by the actions and decisions they deliberately make. These actions and decisions demarcate a before and an after, revealing what a man is capable of. Renouncing a mother (Coleman), lying to cover up one's sordid actions (Delphine), and letting go of the man one loves because of an inability to go against conventions and society (Steena).

Truths and secrets. Presumed truths and never-revealed secrets. Motivations and levers that underlie actions. Sometimes, even those who set them in motion are not so aware, and in the end, no one, not even the person with the strongest and most indomitable character, is able to pilot their own destiny.

“Everyone knows” is the invocation of the cliché and the beginning of the banalization of experience. It is precisely the solemnity and presumed authority with which people formulate the cliché that make it so unbearable. What we know is that, in a non-stereotypical way, no one knows anything. You can't know anything. The things you think you know... you don't really know. Intentions? Motives? Consequences? Meanings? All that we don't know is astonishing. Even more astonishing is what we think we know.

Soundtrack: youtu.be/oh4ntia0hOE

Beginning of the year with a bang: full of stars for me.

**Expanded Article**

Spettri!


We leave a stain, we leave a trace, we leave our imprint. Impurity, cruelty, abuse, error, excrement, semen: there is no other way to be here.


Life is built on a secret lie. Thus, within a web of fiction, we see a stain, an imprint, an impurity; and everything is error, cruelty, deceit, gamble, charm, decision, last song. Contempt and respect hide a hostile and vengeful spirit, within the arms of ancient traditions and conventional and material bonds. Hypocrisy and violence cover people with indifference and senselessness, those who think they do not fear its destructive power. Roth's protagonist loves diverse and disorderly women, sensual in their guilt, exciting because of their irregularity. Roth seeks a design in imbalance and travels along unexpected and irreconcilable paths: thus, the instinct for purity is realized only in deformity, the inconsistency of every conviction is constantly put to the test of facts, of bodies, of nature. Coleman and Faunia delude themselves into thinking they are unrepeatable, but the social context around them imposes a ritual and implacable will. Passion evolves into animal complicity and disorganized will, in waves of morbid emotions, in delinquent attitudes, transforming a tormented past into a desperate destiny. But prejudice is a form of knowledge that pushes morality to take advantage of every weakness, fragility, and contradiction. Thus, the tragic dimension is revealed in all its depth, leading the reader to deny himself and his most intimate identity, without realizing that he has crossed numerous boundaries and found within the pages an incredulous and ancestral impulse. That towards happiness.


“It is in each of us. Inherent. Intrinsic. Qualifying. The stain that exists before the sign. That exists without the sign. The stain so intrinsic does not require a sign. The stain that precedes disobedience, that includes disobedience and whips every explanation and every understanding.”

Here's what I know:

If a book showcases some old man having sexual relations with a younger woman, it's worth checking the author's age. Without a doubt, 100% of the time, the author will be the same age as the old man in the story.

The younger woman in such scenarios is often portrayed as vulnerable. She is drawn to the older man's sense of security and wisdom. However, there is a significant power imbalance at play, which is essentially similar to the situation when Tarzan saves Jane from the lion. It's an embarrassing and immature form of wish-fulfillment. Even when the writing is of high quality, the overall concept can still be rather boring.

This particular book, while occasionally well-written, has some rather absurd moments. For instance, the young lady dances naked for approximately 20 pages while blabbering about free love. Her dialogue, such as "Oh, I see you, Coleman. I could give you away my whole life and still have you. Just by dancing," is quite hard to stomach. It's simply awful and makes it difficult to get through that part of the book.

Moreover, you've likely heard this same old story before. Old men complain that no one wants to read books by old male authors. But it's not because of being "politically correct." The real issue is that old men seem unable to stop writing about their penises, and it becomes extremely tiresome. The entire literary canon, as established by a group of old men and their uninteresting preoccupations, is充斥着 such stories.

Coleman Silk, in The Human Stain, is one of those typical old guys. He represents the worst kind of college professor - the type who dictates how you should read a book. As one character puts it, it's "fossilized pedagogy." Well, I say fuck that. It's my book, and I'll decide how to read it. If I choose to take a feminist perspective on Euripides, then that's my prerogative. Euripides can handle himself just fine.

Silk is also of African-American descent, yet he has been passing as white his entire life. Ironically, he is disgraced due to an ill-timed use of the word "spook." The one-sentence plot of the book is that a guy accused of racism is secretly black. While it may sound interesting on the surface, the problem lies in Philip Roth's belief that it's a metaphor for himself.

Roth thinks this way because he has constantly been accused of being an asshole. Throughout his life, people have labeled him with various names, including misogynist and even anti-Semite (despite being Jewish himself). He keeps protesting that he doesn't believe what his characters say. In a New York Times interview, he complains, "The thought of the novelist lies not in the remarks of his characters or even in their introspection, but in the plight he has invented for his characters."

Well, indeed. But the plight he has invented here seems to revolve around a young lady's vagina. Of course, Philip Roth isn't Coleman Silk. He's more like his pimp, using these storylines for his own purposes.

This book was truly dreadful.

I either disposed of it or gave it away, preferably to someone I don't hold in high regard.

I initially picked it up because the concept for the story seemed great.

Regrettably, Roth devotes an inordinate amount of time flaunting his language skills that he never manages to actually tell the story.

I had a somewhat similar feeling about John Banville's The Sea.

It was written so exquisitely that I had to (to some extent) overlook the fact that it was rather dull.

However, the difference between that and The Human Stain is that Roth's writing doesn't exalt the beauty of the language like Banville's; instead, it showcases his own superior mastery of it, which becomes extremely irritating.

He firmly belongs in the pompous ass category, along with Tom Wolfe.

Oh, and quite frankly, the情节 with the French teacher was just plain strange.

(And for those who are interested in the movie version - Nicole Kidman as an illiterate janitor? Seriously....)

The basic story presents Coleman Silk, a dean at a small New England college. He manages to turn the institution around and upgrades the faculty. Eventually, he decides to step down and go back to the classroom. However, he quickly stumbles into a politically correct scandal and ends up resigning. His most intense persecutor is the new dean of students, a young woman he once hired. Soon after, his wife dies. According to Coleman, she is killed by the stress of the scandal. And when it comes to scandals, 71-year-old Coleman starts having an affair with Faunia Farley, a 34-year-old illiterate who was formerly an abused stepdaughter and then wife. In the background, the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal is unfolding.

That alone makes for a really interesting novel. But it's not just that. There are many more layers to everything. And even better is Roth's use of language. This is by no means my first encounter with inner monologue, stream of consciousness, non-omniscient narrator, and so on. But I have to say it's by far the most irresistibly readable example I've ever come across. I've been away from Roth for too long. I read some of his early works, but had no idea what a virtuoso he'd become as he got older.

Roth's ability to create complex characters and weave a web of scandals and emotions is truly remarkable. The story keeps you engaged from start to finish, and you can't help but be drawn into the lives of the characters. His use of language adds another dimension to the novel, making it a truly immersive reading experience. Whether you're a fan of Roth or new to his work, this novel is definitely worth a read.

The danger of hatred is truly profound. Once it takes hold, it snowballs into something far greater and more uncontrollable than one could ever anticipate. It's like a wildfire that spreads rapidly, consuming everything in its path.

The quote "The danger with hatred is, once you start in on it, you get a hundred times more than you bargained for. Once you start, you can't stop" truly encapsulates this peril.

\\n"We leave a stain, we leave a trail, we leave our imprint. Impurity, cruelty, abuse, error, excrement, semen - there’s no other way to be here. Nothing to do with disobedience. Nothing to do with grace or salvation or redemption. It’s in everyone. Indwelling. Inherent. Defining. The stain that is there before its mark."

In 1998, America was in the grip of a prurient frenzy due to the impeachment of a president. Meanwhile, in a small New England town, Coleman Silk, an aging Classics professor, was unjustly forced to retire when wrongly accused of being a racist by his colleagues. The truth about Silk, however, was far more astonishing than even his harshest accusers could have imagined.

Coleman Silk had a secret that he had kept hidden for fifty years from his wife, children, colleagues, and friends, including the writer Nathan Zuckerman. It was Zuckerman who accidentally discovered Silk's secret and embarked on a journey to piece together the unknown aspects of this respected man's life. He aimed to understand how Silk's carefully constructed life had come undone and how his private history was intricately intertwined with the larger public history of modern America, as described by the Wall Street Journal.

Now, with a white supremacist in the White House and a total anti-semite in the cabinet, it seems an appropriate time to re-visit this story. Here are those Brex Pistols: