The story unfolds as that of a fatherless boy. He is raised by his timid mother and overbearing grandmother. As he matures into a man, he endeavors to forge his path in Depression-era Chicago and later in other countries. Augie firmly believes that "a man's character is his fate," and thus concludes that "this fate, or what he settles for, is also his character."

Consequently, he is constantly in search of "a fate good enough." He attempts to fit into others' plans but struggles to formulate his own. This leaves him feeling buffeted by the capricious winds of fate. He takes on menial or thrilling yet temporary jobs, beds with and falls in love with a succession of women, dabbles in thievery and academics, and contemplates the nature of man.

Spanning 585 pages, Augie appears to be a sequence of events that don't necessarily overlap or build towards a specific climax. While his older, stern-minded brother Simon adapts to the world, marrying for financial gain and making practical decisions for the family in a timely manner, Augie remains unsure of his place. He seems ready "to dissolve in a bewilderment of choices."

I discovered this quintessentially American existential epic to be a delight to read, despite its length, roller-coaster pacing, and multitude of characters. At times, it lags, especially in the final 100 or so pages, and there is no true resolution; it is a (very generous) slice of life novel. Nevertheless, I adored it from beginning to end. Besides its subject matter - man's often fruitless pursuit to find his place in a largely indifferent and deceitful world - which is very close to my heart, I was enthralled by Bellow's rich prose. Erudite, evocative, and earthy, Bellow's prose is the hallmark of a craftsman who has mastered the language. It helps maintain the allure of Augie's story even when nothing particularly remarkable is occurring. It is a brilliant book and a worthy candidate for the title of Great American Novel.

I wonder how picaresque a life of any individual may look from the outside.

A little man in a big world, all alone and lost in a crowd – how to find one’s walk of life and what way to choose?

Friends, human pals, men and brethren, there is no brief, digest, or shorthand way to say where it leads. Crusoe, alone with nature, under heaven, had a busy, complicated time of it with the unhuman itself, and I am in a crowd that yields results with much more difficulty and reluctance and am part of it myself.

And wherever one is going one can’t be sure that a blind alley doesn’t lie ahead.

The spirit of man, enslaved, sobs in the silence of boredom, the bitter antagonist. Boredom therefore can arise from the cessation of habitual functions, even though these may be boring too. It is also the shriek of unused capacities, the doom of serving no great end or design, or contributing to no master force. The obedience that is not willingly given because nobody knows how to request it. The harmony that is not accomplished. This lies behind boredom.

Fortune and misfortune, adventures and misadventures, conceptions and misconceptions, understanding and misunderstanding: that’s the stuff the human life is made of.

Life is a complex tapestry woven with these various elements. It's a journey filled with uncertainties, where the path forward is often obscured. We strive to find our place, to make sense of the chaos around us. But in the end, it's the experiences, both good and bad, that shape us and define who we are. Whether we face success or failure, we continue to move forward, learning from our mistakes and growing as individuals. The picaresque nature of life adds to its charm and makes it a truly unique and remarkable adventure.

I am a passionate fan of the remarkable trio consisting of Martin Amis, Ian McEwan, and the late Christopher Hitchens.

Consequently, I have delved into at least one book penned by each of these authors and have also explored the book recommendations put forth by the authors themselves. In the case of Hitchens, it was Wodehouse (incidentally, I struggled to finish the one I attempted to read). For McEwan, it was Tolstoy, and Amis recommended Saul Bellow.

This marks the first book I have had the pleasure of reading by Saul Bellow, and I am eagerly anticipating delving into Herzog, Humbolt's Gift, and Henderson the Rain King, all of which I have already procured.

I am truly enamored with the characters in this book. For someone who has perused a fair amount of fiction, I was somewhat astounded by their charm. While engrossed in the reading, I completely forgot my own existence and felt as if I had inhabited a character's mind and body. It was an exhilarating and captivating experience.

Part of what renders this book so thoroughly enjoyable is Bellow's formidable intellect. He possesses profound insights into the human condition, or at least that was the impression I garnered while reading. On the flip side, some of his thoughts are so convoluted that I often find myself floundering, attempting to decipher what he is striving to convey, even after multiple rereadings. It's not that I don't understand the words (which I look up if I'm stumped); it's simply that I struggle to fathom how his choices are intended to be interpreted. The ideas that I did manage to comprehend are on par with those of Tolstoy (my all-time favorite author).

Other than that, there were a few references that eluded me, but that is to be expected from a book written in the 1950s and set in the 1930s.

This novel is set in Chicago during the period between the two World Wars. It commences with a highly renowned opening line:

I am an American, Chicago-born—Chicago, that somber city—and go at things as I have taught myself, freestyle, and will make the record in my own way: first to knock, first admitted; sometimes an innocent knock, sometimes a not so innocent.

The story follows Augie March as he recounts his life journey, starting from childhood and extending to his mid-thirties. Augie never knew his father, who deserted the family when he was extremely young. He has one brother, George, who is mentally disabled, and a second brother, Simon, who is determined to achieve wealth and success in life. Augie's adventures essentially represent his endeavors to figure out what he desires his life to be and what he wishes to accomplish with it. There is a great deal of frustration on Augie's part and also on mine as the reader, as we accompany Augie through a plethora of jobs, infatuations, loves, missteps, adventures, and discoveries, constantly wondering if he will ever find what he is seeking. With each new step or alteration in direction, one wonders if Augie is learning anything.

I have written in other reviews about my experience of reading Saul Bellow; I have read three other novels by him. With each one, I oscillate between being in love with the characters and the prose when the focus is on the story and experiencing frustration and confusion when the author inserts interior monologues and transitions that are often dense and tiresome. I find myself longing to tell him: You are such a good storyteller. You create great characters. Why not write one novel that is just straightforward storytelling. You would amaze people with your magic. But unfortunately, at least for me, I believe Saul Bellow would be bored writing that kind of novel. So I have a love/frustration relationship with him where I have to exert effort to get through certain sections. Bellow won a Pulitzer Prize, three National Book Awards, and a Nobel Prize, among other accolades, so my wishes are not of consequence. Some individuals wait until the very end of their lives to receive a Nobel Prize; Saul Bellow received his 29 years before his passing.

Despite my remarks regarding his prose style, there are precious gems to be discovered within those introspective monologues. I am aware that you can find this thought expressed elsewhere, but nowhere have I found it stated as eloquently, and it remains relevant even 70 years later:

And this is what mere humanity always does. It’s made up of these inventors or artists, millions and millions of them, each in his own way trying to recruit other people to play a supporting role and sustain him in his make-believe. The great chiefs and leaders recruit the greatest number, and that’s what their power is. There’s one image that gets out in front to lead the rest and can impose its claim to being genuine with more force than others, or one voice enlarged to thunder is heard above the others...That’s the struggle of humanity, to recruit others to your version of what’s real.

I am an American, Chicago born... That's Augie and me too.

What an amazing and special connection one has with a book set in their own city, vividly describing neighborhoods and landmarks that are so familiar that you can almost see them with your own eyes. Augie's comments on the pillars holding up the El on Lake Street strike a chord with me as I have driven that very route and witnessed the pigeons nesting just as he describes. The restaurants and theaters he visited during the Depression managed to survive long enough for me to visit them in my own youth. Even though I came to this book 40 years later, I have a deep understanding of the city that Augie lives in and truly cherish his delight in it.

I guess that's precisely why the section of the book set in Mexico didn't quite resonate with me as strongly. There is some wonderful descriptive narration here, but Augie seems as out of place as I would have felt.

It is often said that there are only two basic stories: the stranger comes to town or the hero takes a journey. Our hero, Augie, embarks on a journey. While there is physical movement from place to place, the real journey lies within himself, evolving from a child to a man, from naivete to, well, almost wisdom. And when the book ends, one knows that Augie's journey does not cease, and one can't help but wish to accompany him for the rest of the way.

This book seems to be an underrated classic.

From its very opening lines, it embarks on the heady trajectory of Augie March in Chicago and other places. He is not quite a Horatio Alger, but perhaps a less burlesque Ignatius J Reilly. One can't help but think that the author of "A Confederacy of Dunces" must have had Bellow's book in mind when penning that work.

Augie is a fantastic Everyman, and he draws us into his attempts at self-discovery. I was particularly moved by the first climax that occurs in Mexico.

The voice that Bellow employs here is rich in both Chicago street vernacular and erudite references. This combination reveals a more philosophical and deeper voyage, despite the hijinks and hilarious adventures of the protagonist.

I truly loved this book, perhaps even more than "Seize the Day" or "Herzog". It certainly makes me blush with pride at my American literary heritage.

Seriously, this is an excellent book! It is a must-read for anyone interested in exploring the human condition through the lens of American literature.

This book brought to my mind Dickens' "David Copperfield", a book I read for my English class way back in high school during the Sixties.

I vividly remember that we dedicated a significant amount of time to discussing all the diverse characters. Each one was exquisitely described by Dickens, and all of them had their own unique eccentricities.

Having just completed "The Adventures of Augie March" by Saul Bellow (1915 - 2005) which was published in 1953, I had the distinct feeling that I had been overwhelmed by a parade of characters. Some of them were strange, yet all were richly detailed, much like in Dickens' works.

At the beginning of "Copperfield", the protagonist declares, "Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show..." This could easily apply to Augie March, who appears to be incapable of becoming the hero of his own story.

Born as a poor Jewish boy on the West Side of Chicago, Augie grows up, mainly meandering through life, unable to commit to a particular course of action. He seems overly reliant on mentors and peers who attempt to offer him advice. He undertakes a wide range of jobs, such as being an assistant to a shady businessman and becoming a union organizer. For a while, he even steals books. He also becomes involved with numerous women. In fact, it is a woman who entangles him in his most extraordinary adventure - taking an eagle to Mexico and using it to catch large lizards in the mountains there.

Following his Mexican escapade, Augie starts to formulate an idea of what he desires to do when he finally decides to settle down. However, World War II intervenes and Augie gets embroiled in that.

Does he ever commit himself to a woman and to a life that can bring him satisfaction?

I rate this novel 4 stars out of 5. As much as I relished Bellow's writing, especially the dialogues, the book was just too wordy. I believe it would have been enhanced if it were somewhat shorter in length. Perhaps with fewer characters... I suppose most readers of this book would probably disagree....?

Saul Bellow had been on my list of authors to try for years.

To be honest, I was intimidated by him. As a winner of the Nobel and the Pulitzer, I envisaged Bellow's writing to be dense and academic, or overly experimental. And indeed, there is something that could be termed experimental about The Adventures of Augie March. It is a departure from the more "traditional" forms of storytelling. However, it was astonishingly accessible and engaging, pulling me in with almost no effort.

I actually listened to this book in audio format, yet I find it fascinating that my perception and recollection of it are highly visual. As Augie narrates his story, I felt as if I were flipping through an old album of photographs. Augie zeroes in on one or another of the people around him - old eccentrics, crooks, immigrants, the new-rich - with such great detail and insight. And as he speaks about this or that character, a larger picture of Chicago during the depression begins to take shape. Eventually, even Chicago proves to be too small a canvas for such a story, and it spills out, first south towards Mexico, and then east to Europe.

I have sometimes drawn a parallel between a book and a painting, and although I can't think of a specific painting at this moment, it would surely be a Picasso: bits and pieces of characters and plot, all with multiple facets, creating a much bigger picture of a time period. Not exactly beautiful, but captivating and intriguing. Certainly distinctive, but somewhat模糊.

I should stop now, as I realize that my description might do this book a disservice. Anyone reading this review might think it is after all a difficult book, when in reality it is not. It was a great story to listen to, with a remarkable narrator. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

I made it through this. And thank god it's over. I had to read this for my real life book club.

And, boy, was that hard work.

Yes, this was written brilliantly. The author's command of language and the ability to create a vivid world was truly remarkable. And it did have a rich cast of many, many interesting and unique characters. Each one was well-developed and added depth to the story.

But. It was way too long and partially pretty boring. There were sections that seemed to drag on and on, and I found myself losing interest.

Though a lot happened to and with Augie, basically nothing really came out of it. I am not sure if I can express it right, but that was my feeling here. It was supposed to be a novel about the development of Augie March. But for me he stayed quite unchanged through all his adventures. He faced many challenges and experiences, but in the end, he seemed to be the same person.

I was a little disappointed, as this was supposed to be a masterpiece. I had high expectations, but unfortunately, it didn't quite live up to them.

But to be honest it was a struggle for me to make it through the 800+ pages. It required a lot of patience and determination.

Overall, while there were some aspects of the book that I enjoyed, I can't say that I loved it. It was a good read, but not a great one.

Looks like I'll have to change my final opinion of Saul Bellow, just as I did with Cormac McCarthy. Last year, I read Henderson the Rain King and Dangling Man, and I couldn't stand either of them. They were both a chore to read, even though Dangling Man was only about 150 pages. Then I read Ravelstein, and although it was more enjoyable, it didn't seem likely to stay with me. I knew I had to give him at least one more chance, since everyone seems to like him so much. The Adventures of Augie March seemed to be the sort of book I'd like: long, picaresque, and ambitious.

And it is all of those. Augie starts the story as a poor kid in Chicago, practically an orphan since his dad is absent and his mom is a quiet, unobtrusive near-invalid. He has a charismatic grandmother, Grandma Lausch, who has great expectations for Augie and his brother Simon. And the whole thing is very much like Great Expectations, actually. It's very much about "please-sir-may-i-have-some-more". And the tone of it is fairly bland and Dickensian, with a "let-me-tell-you-how-this-all-came-to-be" feel. Not very promising. Augie gets taken under the wing of Einhorn, a businessman (of sorts) of uncertain success. He's naturally very enamored of the guy at this point - "William Einhorn was the first superior man I knew." Superior to whom, though? At any rate, the first 150 pages or so are not that promising.

But then Bellow goes crazy. The style changes from decidedly 19th-century to definitively mid-20th. Absurd characters drift in and out of the narrative. Augie travels outside Chicago to various places on various errands, none of which I'll spoil here. A bald eagle named Caligula becomes a prominent character. The writing varies from clear and precise to lofty and/or hallucinogenic. There's this Bellow quote rattling around in my head, something about how only 20,000 people in the world could fully understand his work. I thought that would make sense for Joyce or Faulkner, but Bellow's work always seemed totally straightforward, with no surprises. And I still think that's true of his ideas. It's less true of his syntax and vocabulary, though. He just has a way of expressing images that's totally unique. And at times incomprehensible. But even that's in a good way.

Here's Augie on driving fast: "...Until you noticed how a mile of trees cracked open like a shadow inch of tape, that the birds resembled flies and the sheep birds, and how swift the blue, yellow, and red little bloods of bugs spattered on the glass." What the hell is a shadow inch of tape? I don't know, but I get his whole description. And who would ever say it like that?

And here's one of his character descriptions, which I find inimitable, even in the works of his that I liked less: "Beside his mouth were deep folds and inside them grew little shining bristles, as the geode or marvel of the rock world is full of tiny crystals...His head was onion-shaped and clipped close. In the garden where he was when we met the heat was trembling off the top of his dome." Why gloss the geode as "marvel of the rock world"? Anybody who knows what one is doesn't need the gloss, and anybody who doesn't still won't be able to visualize it. I have no idea, but I still think it's a great paragraph.

Here's a description of Chicago: "...the gray snarled city with the hard black straps of rails, enormous industry cooking and its vapor shuddering to the air, the climb and fall of its stages in construction or demolition like mesas, and on these the different powers and subpowers crouched and watched like sphinxes. Terrible dumbness covered it, like a judgment that would never find its word." Is that like anything else you've ever read? He just manhandles the English language. Twists and tortures it just like Norman Podhoretz said, but in a good way. Tempers it in his crazy head like molten metal in a crucible.

One more example, this one a little lower in brow-level: "There's something about those business envelopes with the transparent oblong address part that my soul runs away from." True of everyone, I'd think, except who has ever said it like that?

But it's not just the style that makes this book great. It's the best example I've seen of a story about a kid who can't, or won't, become an adult. Let's say that the main criterion for becoming an adult is not a certain age (because what age would that be?); let's say it's not having kids (because we know kids can have kids); let's say it's not getting married (because the age of consent in other countries can of course be very low). Let's say instead that you become an adult the moment the rest of your life is, or seems to be, set in stone. Marriage or kids or a career can certainly do this, of course, or contribute. But they don't have to. I'd argue that being an adult takes a certain sense of resignation, as opposed to the pervasive sense of infinite possibility characteristic of kids. But it sounds more bleak than it is: there is stability in resignation. There is comfort. And there's a hell of a lot of dignity.

Augie has many chances for this. Early in the novel he passes up a chance to be adopted by an aristocratic family, and thus a chance to live in the lap of luxury for the rest of his life. He doesn't do this, simply because it would close so many doors to him, or so he thinks. He values freedom more than security or wealth. Then he willingly messes up a chance to attach himself to his brother Simon, whose star is rising, and who remains rich ostensibly past the end of the novel, though not necessarily happy. Augie can't cope with the fact that someday he'll have to let his options for life narrow down to one. And at the end of the book, he's still drifting. He's changed, sure, but not fundamentally. In truth he seems on the fence: he's married but not in such a way that inspires confidence that he'll stay that way. And his job takes him all over, but is a little more stable than what he had through most of the book. So he may be on his way, finally, to adulthood. But there is that uncertainty.

And this ends up being more pertinent than Bellow may have suspected. Kids are staying kids longer now, or so they say. They marry later, divorce earlier, live at home, change careers, tarry in school. All this as resistance to the idea that they may have to resign themselves to one path at some point. They don't want to be stuck. And this is because (and I hate to make this generalization but I do believe it's true) our generation - my generation - has been brought up, like Augie March, to believe that we are special. That we are destined for greatness. That we can have anything we want. That we can be anything we want. And that we don't have to settle for anything less than perfect.

But we do have to settle for less than perfect. That's what being an adult means. And Augie March can help us understand that.

\\"The Adventures of Augie March\\" is an excellent bildungsroman and one of the great novels of American literature in the 20th century. Its appearance did not go unnoticed, and in 1954 it was awarded the National Book Award (the first of three won by Saul Bellow's books). Since then, it has firmly entered the canon of literary history, and I don't think there are reasons to remove it from the list of fundamental books. In my opinion, it is a true masterpiece.

The adventures of Augie March mainly take place in Chicago, but there is also an interesting and somewhat unusual episode that occurs in Mexico, and the end takes place on the European continent, mainly in Paris. However, there is a strong American fiber. In fact, in the preface written by Martin Amis, the writer calls this novel \\"The Great American Novel\\" (the edition I refer to is the one published by Polirom in 2008 in excellent conditions; more recently, the publisher Litera reissued it in a pocket collection, and I'm not sure if it also contains Martin Amis' preface).

The action takes place in the interwar period, but also includes World War II (although Augie wanted to enlist, he never became a real combatant, which does not mean that his life was not seriously endangered during the war) and a kind of epilogue after the end of the world conflict.

The first remarkable character in the book is, of course, Grandma Lausch, the \\"impossible to please\\", who is a kind of supreme dictator (the first in a long list of characters with dictatorial tendencies who will try to dominate poor Augie): \\"With the cigarette between her small black gums, among which all the cunning, malice, and authority peeked out, she had the best moments of strategic inspiration. She was wrinkled like an old paper bag, an autocrat with an iron shell, perfidious, an old Bolshevik hawk and vulture, and she kept her ashen little feet with unmoving soles on the shoe box and the stool made by Simon during his workshop hours, while the sour and fat old Winnie, who filled the apartment with a disgusting smell, sat on the cushion next to her. If the sharpness of the mind does not necessarily go hand in hand with eternal dissatisfaction, this is a truth that I have not learned from an old age. She was impossible to please. For example, Kreindl, a man of hope, Kreindl who always brought us coal when mother was sick and who put Kotzie to make us remedies out of nothing, she called him \\"that Hungarian drags-his-pants\\" or \\"that Hungarian pig\\". She nicknamed Kotzie \\"the baked apple\\"; she called Mrs. Kreindl \\"the secret sow\\", Lubin \\"the son of the shoemaker\\", the dentist \\"the butcher\\", and the butcher \\"that mean crook\\". She couldn't stand the dentist, who several times unsuccessfully tried to make her a prosthesis to measure. She accused him of burning her gums when he took the impression, but she forgot that she had tried to push his hands away from her mouth.\\" In short, a great figure.

The second key character in the book, who will also leave his mark on Augie, is, of course, William Einhorn. Although there is no connection between Grandma Lausch (who is not a direct relative of Augie's family, consisting of his mother and her three sons - Simon, Augie, and Georgie, the last of whom was born with a disability) and Mr. Einhorn, who suffers from a great handicap, being unable to use either his hands or his feet, yet both will manifest as two dictators (in fact, relatively well-intentioned) in relation to our hero: \\"William Einhorn was the first superior man I knew. He had a brain and many businesses, a true talent for organization, philosophical capacity, and if I had been methodical enough to think more before making an important decision and if (N.B.) I had really been his disciple and not what I am, I would have asked myself: \\"What would Caesar accept in this case? What advice would Machiavelli or Ulysses give us?\\" I'm not kidding at all when I add Einhorn to this eminent list. I knew him and through him I understood them.\\" However, the life of the vast majority of Americans will be shaken by the Great Depression, Einhorn's billiard club will go bankrupt, and Augie is very close to definitely losing his life and becoming a criminal.

The next selfish person who will try to impose her good intentions on Augie is Mrs. Renling: \\"This was actually the trouble with Mrs. Renling - you couldn't interrupt or stop her from the pale focus of her concentration. She cooked for you if she wanted, she fed you, she taught you, she instructed you, she played mahjong with you, and you had no way to oppose her, because she had more strength than anyone around her; with her eyes open to the color and the pale, fox-like spots of the pistils that could be seen through the dust on her face or on the back of her hand, among the long and hard rays of the tendons.\\" However, although Mrs. Renling's plan to marry him seems to be just a formality, yet Augie's inclination to say No! will put an end to the domination of this lady. So he will end up living from hand to mouth, will take care of dogs for very small sums of money, will try to steal books to sell them, etc. Poor him! But thus he will also discover the \\"fever of reading\\".

Augie's older brother, Simon, marries Charlotte Magnus, but beforehand, he shows his true face as a scoundrel. Simon becomes the new tyrant of Augie, whom he wants to marry to his wife's sister, Lucy. Which, by the way, also amuses Augie, although he is now part of the labor movement.

The Mexican episode is simply fabulous; Augie goes to Mexico because his new love, Thea, has to sort out some papers with her ex-husband. Thea was part of a club of collectors of rattlesnakes and practiced falconry. Now, with Augie's help, she proposes to train the vulture Caligula. Although it looks very imposing, the vulture will prove to be a coward, a cause of extreme disappointment for Thea. Augie still has a little hope: \\"Caligula is an American buzzard, the strongest and wildest species\\", he says about his bird. But, unfortunately, everything will be in vain. The destiny of Caligula is sealed: he will end up in a zoo.

In a short time, Thea takes up a new occupation, which will far exceed the bearability limit of Augie: rattlesnake hunting. Augie is downright exasperated: \\"Why snakes? Why did she have to go snake hunting? She came back with full bags that oozed and made my intestines react violently; and then she treated them with so much love that I could only see eccentricity in her gesture. You had to be very careful not to provoke her to hit the cage window, because that caused them mouth injuries that healed very hard. And in addition, they had parasites that entered between the scales and had to be powdered or painted with mercurochrome; some had to be given eucalyptus oil inhalations because of the lung problems, because the snakes cause tuberculosis. The hardest thing was when they shed their skin, because they seemed to suffocate when they couldn't detach themselves from it and even their eyes became cloudy with a milky film. Sometimes Thea took the tweezers to help them or covered them with wet towels to moisten the skin, or she took the less clumsy ones into the water and in the water there was a large piece of wood that floated so that the jivina could rest its head when it was tired of so much swimming. But then there came a day when they came out shiny, and the beauty of their ornaments even pleased me, their enemy, and it was a pleasure for me to look at the shed skin behind which they emerged regenerated in all their green or red-speckled splendor, like fruits with seeds or a crust gilded with gold.\\"

But there are also other people with despotic tendencies, so the list never seems to be complete: the millionaire \\"carried with a stretcher\\" Robey, who plans to write a book titled \\"The Hole of the Acorn\\"; the demented biologist or biochemist or \\"psycho-bio-physician\\" Hymie Basteshaw, whose mania for grandeur almost costs the life of poor Augie March. In other words, a gallery of human beings, deeds, and ideas among the most outstanding, but also full of flavor. What else is there and beyond, a truly amazing book. Pleasant reading!

What a slog it has been!

Okay, I do understand what Bellow was attempting to do with the whole character/fate concept. Truly, I do.

However, I feel as if I've been repeatedly hit over the head with it for more than 600 pages.

It's a pity because the fundamental story is actually very good.

Augie is an intriguing character. He can't quite figure out what it is that he desires to be, yet he knows that he doesn't want to conform to what everyone else expects him to be.

This leads him into associations with a diverse range of interesting individuals: a paralyzed and crooked businessman, a dog groomer, a wealthy couple who wishes to adopt him, a woman who takes him to Mexico to teach an eagle how to hunt for lizards, a period of service in the merchant marines during World War II, and many others.

But in the midst of narrating this story, Bellow veers off on philosophical tangents, making references to the Greeks and Romans, little-known philosophers, and an abundance of stuff that one simply doesn't care to read about.

Sometimes I just wanted to exclaim, à la Grandma Lausch, "Enough already, get on with the story."

And after all of that, the ending was a huge disappointment.

I'm glad I can now cross this one off my classics list.