I found this book to be extremely depressing.

In fact, it even crept into my dreams.

This is the story of a family that is grappling with insanity, alcoholism, perhaps incest, and serious illness.

The book is filled with an abundance of hatred, self-loathing, and an inability to assign blame accurately or distribute it evenly among all the characters.

The story is set in the South, and the portrayal of the blacks is a combination of caricature and the reality of that era.

The writing, however, is wonderfully descriptive, which is the reason for awarding it four stars.

I had a love-hate relationship with this book. There were parts that I truly loved, while other parts left me with a sense of unease and dissatisfaction.

Overall, it was a thought-provoking and emotionally charged read that will stay with me for a long time.

I don't know, man.

You had me engaged for 350 pages, but the last 50 were truly brutal.

The first-person perspective of a nutjob is extremely difficult to execute effectively, and I thought that reconciling the entire story with a mass baptism of the help was beyond the scope of what could be realistically achieved.

However, having said all that, it definitely showed great promise of what was to come later in his career.

It's truly amazing that he wrote this at the age of 22.

His talent and potential were already evident, despite the flaws in this particular work.

It makes one eager to see how he would develop and mature as a writer in the years to come.

Overall, while the ending may have been a bit of a letdown, the rest of the story had enough interesting elements and writing skills to suggest that this author was one to watch.

I have come to a significant decision regarding my reading habits. I have adopted a new policy of not persevering with books that fail to truly engage and captivate me. This particular book will unfortunately be the first victim of my new approach. In all fairness, it is not entirely William Styron's shortcoming. To a certain extent, it can be attributed to the influence of William Faulkner.

The narrative revolves around a dysfunctional family situated in the American South. It is indeed a rather good story, yet it lacks the unique essence that Faulkner brings to this genre. As far as I am concerned, this particular literary territory has already been explored and mastered by Faulkner. I firmly believe that no one else should attempt to tread the same path. Perhaps if the writing style had been more distinct from Faulkner's, I might have been more lenient in my assessment. However, to my discerning eye, it simply felt like a pale imitation.

Nevertheless, I am open to the possibility that others may have a different perspective and find value in this book that I have overlooked. After all, everyone's literary tastes and preferences vary.

What an awful, awful family.

Lie Down in Darkness is William Styron's first novel. It offers an exhaustive and exhausting portrayal of a world-beating dysfunctional family. Milton Loftis, a middle-aged lawyer, has failed to realize his youthful dreams of using his military background and law practice to launch a political career. His wife, Helen, suffers from severe and debilitating depression, and her family's wealth subsidizes Milton's insufficient legal practice. Their beautiful, intelligent, and spoiled daughter, Peyton, and their physically and mentally handicapped younger daughter, Maudie, complete the picture.

The novel begins and ends on the day Milton is driven to the train station to meet the coffin carrying Peyton, who has apparently committed suicide in New York City at the age of 26. Helen, who has always despised Peyton, does not accompany him, but he is joined by the family servant and his mistress. Over the next 400 pages, the author paints a believable but repulsive portrait of the family's failures and the way Milton and Helen, in particular, make each other miserable.

Helen hates Peyton, who is Milton's favorite, and shuts herself off from any positive relationship with either Milton or Peyton, devoting herself instead to the care of Maudie. Milton, in part as a response to Helen's rejection, becomes an alcoholic and has a long-term affair with a woman, leading to her divorce and unrequited dependence on him. Meanwhile, Peyton exhibits an uncomfortably flirtatious relationship with her father, perhaps暗示着 some earlier sexual contact between them.

Although the novel is not primarily plot-driven, the author vividly depicts five crucial days in the life of the Loftis family: a birthday party Milton throws for a teenage Peyton at the country club, where he provides her with alcohol while Peyton and her mother openly express their hatred for each other; a trip Milton takes to Charlottesville to visit Helen and the dying Maudie in the hospital, during which he descends into drunkenness on an hours-long detour to his old fraternity house and the UVA football game, which he rationalizes as an attempt to connect with Peyton and tell her about Maudie's condition; Peyton's wedding day, when Milton's previously successful determination to lead a sober and responsible life collapses; the last day of Peyton's life, a fifty-page stream of consciousness reminiscent of the Benjy section of The Sound and the Fury, in which Peyton's first-person account alternates between a reality-based narrative and her psychotic inner experiences; and the day of Peyton's burial, which bookends the novel.

Although the Peyton section is the only one told in the first person, Styron provides ample information to give a good sense of the motivations, thoughts, and emotions of all the main characters. Milton, the alcoholic father, may be the most sympathetic, as each time he starts to lose control of his drinking, the reader hopes he will stop. The portrayal of Helen is unrelentingly negative. Given Styron's later and well-known struggles with depression, one wonders if his portrayal of Helen's depression stems from personal experience (he was writing this between the ages of 23 and 26), and why he could not muster a shred of sympathy for her.

In addition to these three main characters, there are external characters who can see this family for the disaster it is: Helen's ineffective minister, on whom she becomes overly dependent (it is easier to complain about her life than to do something about it); Peyton's Jewish husband; and the Black household servants, who are little more than racist caricatures.

Although just over 400 pages, the scarcity of true narrative action, the excess of description and inconsequential incidents, and the unremitting bleakness of this family's life make Lie Down in Darkness a burden to read from start to finish. For this reason, it is difficult to recommend, although readers who prefer (it's hard to say "enjoy") novels based almost entirely on the inner workings of their characters are likely to find it rewarding.

Finally, there is an interesting side note. In the past couple of years, the novel has been optioned for a movie and is said to be "in development." There has been a highly publicized rivalry between two prominent young actresses for the role of Peyton, and they could not be more different: Kristen Stewart, whose main acting skill seems to be her ability to maintain an unchanged facial expression regardless of the situation and emotions her characters face; and Jennifer Lawrence, who has already proven to be a talented and versatile actress. You can understand why either of them would want the part, but it's hard to understand why a director with the opportunity to cast Lawrence would ever choose Stewart.

Not an easy read indeed. Styron has masterfully crafted the atmosphere and sense of hopelessness in such a way that it becomes nearly impossible to read this with any semblance of pleasure. However, it cannot be denied that the writing is wonderful. The characters are drawn with such painstaking detail that they seem to leap off the page. Despite the difficult subject matter and the emotional turmoil it evokes, I would not give up having read this. It is a powerful and poignant work that forces the reader to confront the darker aspects of the human condition.

Styron's ability to create a vivid and immersive world is truly remarkable. The descriptions of the setting, the characters' thoughts and feelings, and the events that unfold all contribute to the overall impact of the story. It is a testament to his skill as a writer that he can make the reader feel so deeply for the characters and become so invested in their fates.

Although this may not be a book that one would pick up for light entertainment, it is definitely one that is worth reading for its literary merit and its ability to make the reader think and feel. It is a work that will stay with you long after you have turned the last page and will continue to haunt your thoughts and emotions.

I guess I was just not as enamored of this book as most. Styron went on to write a couple of the most well-regarded books of the second half of the last century. However, this, his first effort at 26, garnered him widespread praise.

Of course, in 1951, this subject matter was a bit more daring. The young author's influences, or at least his attempts to show influence, were clearly Faulkner-like. But, he was not Faulkner.

The story is really nothing more than a broken marriage of two privileged, yet broken people. The husband is an alcoholic who never fulfilled his promise, or at least his dreams. Mrs. Loftis, Helen, appears closer to insanity. We are never truly given a full understanding of the demons that drive her. Their oldest daughter is a cripple and also mentally challenged. Helen spends so much of her life doting on Maudie and the simple, uncomplicated love that she offers, that her relationship with Peyton, her youngest, is irrevocably broken. Peyton is a perfect specimen of Southern girlhood.

Her mother's feelings of inadequacy and jealousy, both for her own lost youth and for what Maudie, her favorite, will never be in comparison to Peyton, sabotage the relationship between mother and daughter.

Her father, disappointed in himself and his life, drinks and runs around. Most consequentially to his wife, he develops an uncomfortably obsessive love for the perfect Peyton.

Peyton is doomed. The family is doomed. The story is strong, but the language is overwrought. The fifty-page stream of consciousness mess that is Peyton's last days is an overindulgence by the author of his own literary ambitions. Again, he is not Faulkner. He is not yet even the writer he will later become.

And, of course, we have to talk about the treatment of Black people. Stereotypes abound, some so painful that they must have been just as painful at the time of publishing. I am not one who wants to cleanse the great Southern writers based on the themes of their times.

But one wonders if there is enough merit in the story to endure the one-dimensional portraits of the black characters.

Overall, I can't recommend the book, but I will acknowledge that the book is an obvious precursor to much better writing to come.

I'm continuously engaged in rating and reviewing my beloved books.

This particular one truly deserves a 5-star rating. It stands as an American classic.

It's Styron's debut book, and as of now, it's the only one of his works that I've delved into.

However, I have this distinct impression that he was wholeheartedly expressing himself as an artist, pouring all his passion and creativity into it.

Maybe before penning this, he hadn't yet "learned" certain writing techniques in a traditional sense. It's just a hunch on my part.

The prose within these pages is simply beautiful.

Granted, the story might seem a bit meandering, expansive, and open-ended. But you know what? It didn't in the least bit bother me.

Instead, I simply immersed myself in this writer's remarkable gift.

And that's precisely what this book is - a precious gift bestowed upon those readers who are truly engaged and receptive.

It offers a literary experience that lingers and enriches the soul.

I can't wait to explore more of Styron's works in the future.

The characters in this story are simply crazy, and you know what? I actually love that aspect of it.

However, at the same time, it's truly awful and extremely draining. Even though I'm fully aware that it's deliberately designed to be this way, I just can't seem to stop myself from despising it a little bit for that very reason.

I might have initially thought that perhaps I'll come to enjoy this novel more when I'm older. But deep down, I don't really think this is a book that one would re-read. Once is more than enough, thank you very much.

It's a strange mix of emotions that this book evokes in me. On one hand, the crazy characters draw me in and keep me engaged. But on the other hand, the overall awfulness and draining nature of it all make it a bit of a love-hate relationship. I'm not sure if I'll ever fully understand my complex feelings towards this novel.

A wordy and rather convoluted tale unfolds, presenting the tragic implosion of a family. The story, however, is marred by a significant flaw - the author-narrator's gratuitous and nonchalant racism. It's as if the author, in the midst of weaving this family drama, feels the need to interject with derogatory and discriminatory remarks that serve no purpose other than to shock and alienate the reader. This blatant display of racism not only detracts from the overall narrative but also leaves a sour taste in the mouth. One wonders why the author would choose to include such offensive content, especially when the story itself could have been powerful and engaging without it. It's a missed opportunity to tell a truly impactful story, overshadowed by the author's inappropriate and unnecessary racial biases.

For though their supper conversation was guarded, and so chilly that it seemed their breath must turn frosty on the air, there yet had remained beneath the mistrust and suspicion that enveloped both of them the tiniest germ. It was some memento each of them had unconsciously salvaged, that cautioned them to keep their voices down and remember, hush: listen—the aerial melody of departed gaiety. As fragile as the smoke from burning dance cards, candles, midnight fires, it might still be heard, very sad and distant, if you closed your eyes and let the years fall away. They had never closed their eyes, but the sense of something small and winking an indestructible remained. They had attended concerts together, and church (he on Trinity, Ash Wednesday, Easter and Christmas), exchanging valiant smiles and greetings with those friends who suspected all there was to suspect about them. But these friends turned away with frowns of doubt: ‘Oh, I can’t believe there’s any trouble there. Look at the way he laughed at her!’ And then, hidden from curious eyes, they would drive home together in mountainous silence, say polite good nights and go to bed—she in her room and he in his. On at least two occasions which they both remembered, their forefingers touched and twined together, embarrassed and tentative and somehow disembodied, like little vines, but fell quickly away. While they marched briskly toward their separate rooms, pausing at their doors to turn, not looking at each other but still back to back, heads cocked to one side, listening for the aerial muted strand of vivacious music that was to both of them familiar but not ever quite heard, and so forever lost.

I now have two William Styron novels under my belt (this and Nat Turner). I am not the biggest fan of his actual prose, which is a bit dense for me. However, I did enjoy this story of the unraveling Loftis family, where vices and mental illness abound. I took off points for Styron’s relentless and gratuitous racism. His descriptions and characterizations at times seemed to perpetuate negative stereotypes, which was quite disappointing. Despite this flaw, the overall narrative of the family’s struggles and the complex relationships within it were engaging and thought-provoking. It made me reflect on the nature of family, love, and the hidden demons that can lurk beneath the surface of seemingly ordinary lives.

This was my very first encounter with Styron's works, and I immediately fell head over heels in love.

The captivating story of the Loftis family simply consumes you, drawing you in and refusing to let go.

I found myself having an extremely hard time putting this novel down.

I thoroughly enjoyed delving deep into the minds of the various characters, making every effort to identify with them and understand their troubles and unique experiences.

I am now eagerly looking forward to reading more of Styron's novels.

I would most definitely recommend this book to a particular crowd. However, although I can't quite precisely put my finger on it, it's important to note that this book isn't meant for everyone.

There is something about it that will resonate more strongly with certain individuals who have a particular inclination or interest in exploring complex human emotions and relationships.

It's a book that requires a certain level of patience and an open mind to fully appreciate and understand the depth and beauty of Styron's writing.

Overall, it was an unforgettable reading experience that has left me with a newfound appreciation for Styron's literary genius.

2/2.5 stars.

This is the first book I've read by Styron, and I suspect it wasn't the best choice. In this depressing novel, Styron vividly portrays the experience of a Southern family falling apart, especially in the context of mental instability and alcohol addiction.

Despite some grand passages, like the incredible short interlude on Potter's Field burial ground in New York City ("The dead do not remain long dead in big cities, or perhaps they become deader"), the book rarely lives up to the promise of the first lines.

It also shows its age (published in 1951) - not only in the language, especially that of the vernacular novel's African American characters, but also in the characters themselves. Each seems designed to fit into a specific stereotyped model (the mother, the mistress, the maid/s, the son-in-law).

So, despite some decent writing and a good bit of changing perspective, the book as a whole was a snore. Jonathan Yardley's reflections on re-reading the book 40 years after the first time capture a lot of what I felt.

For example, referring to a selection from the book, he writes: "Unquestionably, that passage has intensity, power and intelligence. No doubt many readers will find it, as I did four decades ago, deeply moving, haunting. Yet now it mainly strikes me as lugubrious, and so does too much of the rest of the novel."

The opening description of the train ride to Port Warwick is detailed and evocative, painting a vivid picture of the city outskirts.

The account of Potter's Field on Hart's Island also adds an interesting historical and macabre element to the story.

However, overall, the book failed to fully engage me and left me with a sense of disappointment.