Looking for the Great American Novel? According to the likes of Martin Amis, Salman Rushdie, and Christopher Hitchens, look no further than this book. (Why the book jacket would quote three Englishmen about the Great American Novel is a mystery not explained by the editors at Penguin Classics.) James Wood, in his almost ecstatic essay "Saul Bellow's Comic Style," called Bellow "probably the greatest writer of American prose of the 20th century--where greatest means most abundant, various, precise, rich, lyrical," and goes on to give numerous examples of that remarkable prose, many from Augie March.

I can understand why Woods et al. would say these things. For example, Augie's description of a woman as "a great work of ripple-assed luxury, with an immense mozzarella bust" is a line any author would kill for.

And yet.

For all its brilliance--or, perhaps, because of all that brilliance--I found this book wearying. Halfway through its 600 pages I found myself skimming paragraphs and checking ahead to see when chapters would end. Three-fourths of the way through and I was picking up old New Yorker magazines rather than Augie March, and the last 100 pages, every bit as brilliant as the first 100, were kind of a trudging slog through to an ending I didn't really care about. This is a big, gassy windbag of a novel, whose protagonist is a big, windy gasbag of a narrator, and eventually I began to long for narrative event unencumbered by sterling glossolalia and big-ticket allusions. (It would have helped if there were characters who were affecting rather than simply memorable; as with many fireworks novels, the main character is the author.) Yes, the writing is brilliant and extraordinary and often funny, but, to quote a one-sentence review by Ambrose Bierce of another novel: "The covers of this book are too far apart."

It's like Whitman. Now, I love Whitman, you love Whitman, we all admire his original and uniquely American voice, but if you're honest with yourself you'll admit that a half-page of Whitman is a sublime and revelatory experience, a page is an éclair of vernacular lyricism, two pages is like a too-large serving of an extra-rich cake, and five pages leaves you wondering if the lists will ever stop. Whitman, of course, is perhaps the most quintessentially American writer there is, so perhaps its those Whitmanesque qualities that makes Augie March such a good candidate for Great American Novel. If this really is the Great American Novel, though, it's too bad that the Great American Novel takes so long to finish.

The author's use of vivid and colorful language in Augie March is both a strength and a weakness. On one hand, it makes the book come alive and allows the reader to vividly imagine the characters and settings. On the other hand, it can be overwhelming and make the book seem overly long and tedious. The constant stream of allusions and references can also be a bit much for some readers, who may feel that they are being bombarded with too much information.

Despite these criticisms, there is no denying that Augie March is a remarkable work of literature. It is a complex and multi-layered novel that explores themes such as identity, class, and the American Dream. Bellow's writing is truly masterful, and his ability to create vivid and memorable characters is second to none. While the book may not be for everyone, it is definitely worth reading for those who are interested in American literature and the works of Saul Bellow.

Saul Bellow was indeed one of the greatest writers in the realm of American Contemporary fiction. His works are a testament to his remarkable talent and profound understanding.

However, with this particular piece, I found myself not fully engaged or immersed. Bellow's writing was characterized by great skill and intellect. He had a deep comprehension of Man's position in the era between the Great Depression and World War Two.

The fact that I couldn't love this book or extract more from it is perhaps more of a personal shortcoming rather than a flaw in Bellow's writing. It's important to note that without Saul Bellow's contributions, there might not have been writers like Jonathan Franzen or Jeffery Eugenides.

One aspect that I truly enjoyed was the eagle training parts in Mexico. It was a prime example of Bellow's pen working magic.

As he described, "We lay beside a huge tree. Such a centuries' old trunk still had small-change of foliage it was difficult to think this enormous thing should live merely by these tiny leaves. And soon you distinguished the sound of leaves, moved by the air, from the insects' sound. First near and loud; then farther and mountainous. And then you realized that wherever it was dark there was this sound of insects, continental and hemispheric, again and again, like surf, and continuous and dense as stars."

An 20th century version of the picaresque novel presents an interesting spin on the protagonist Augie March.

Relative to other rouge-like characters in this genre, Augie stands out as a moral and intelligent person. He's not without flaws; in his youth, he engaged in some illegal activities. However, considering the tough times, his antics were rather restrained compared to those of his peers.

Many picaresque heroes lack formal education but are street smart. Augie, on the other hand, has a decent amount of conventional education, having completed high school and done some college work. Moreover, he is enormously self-educated through his habit of devouring substantial book collections given to him by others. In terms of street smarts, though, Augie can be considered average to slightly below average.

Like any picaresque novel, this one offers vivid portrayals of the world at specific times and places. Here, however, we encounter a more well-rounded protagonist than usual. Augie is neither a winner nor a loser in life. He manages to get by. Like many real and fictional good people, he has flaws that prevent him from maximizing his potential. And considering how few people truly seize every opportunity that comes their way, Augie is a lot like us, highly recognizable as the type who could be terrific if only he could get his act together.

At the start, it can be a bit odd to encounter the historical and cultural allusions that flow effortlessly from Augie's first-person narration. It may seem beyond what one would expect from a character with his background. Some great authors who use first-person narration either don't understand what they're doing or don't care, as seen in works like "All The King's Men" or "As I Lay Dying." But Bellow is a master craftsman. As Augie's story unfolds, we gradually learn of his natural intelligence and his diligence in self-education. And as in the real world, we see with Augie that success in life requires more than just high intelligence.