Think Cancer but waxed and polished.

"Trópico de Cáncer" y "Trópico de Capricornio" son las novelas más famosas de n  Henry MILLERn, conocidas por su elevado erotismo y sus numerosos detalles autobiográficos.
Ambientada en la Nueva York de la década de 1920, la novela es la historia del despertar espiritual de su protagonista y narrador, Henry V. Miller, empleado de la división de personal de la compañía telegráfica «Cosmodemonic». Gran parte de la trama gira alrededor de sus años conflictivos con su mujer, June Miller, y el proceso de encontrar su voz como escritor. No obstante, aunque las experiencias de su alter ego narrador, con el que comparte el nombre, son muy cercanas a las que pudo tener el propio Miller cuando trabajó para la compañía telegráfica Western Union, la novela se considera una obra de ficción.

All throughout this book I was thinking about one thing: when was Cancer and when was Capricorn written. The first one was published in 1934, and the second in 1938. Four years made this huge progression – Miller really evolved as a writer, he became more concentrated and maybe a bit humbler. He is still unconventional, but although he's a mad man (I even felt sorry for him, which I think he would hate the most), I've found so much mellowness, wisdom and truth in his words that I found myself having goose skin. He still has neurotic shifts and he writes about so many people, but in the beginning he described as a hypothesis, what would happen if he wrote thousands of stories. Would they collapse, would they kill each other, would a reader die suffocating in overwhelming – ness?

He’s passionate. Inconsiderate, definitely – his wife was having a second abortion while he was screwing his secretary who borrowed them money for the hospital. But, maybe I like this book more than Tropic of Cancer because he instead of talking about actual physical sex, sorrowness and how high he is, he writes about retrospection, perception and introspection of his own life and people around him. Yes, sometimes too much gibberish psycho-philosophical rambling, but at least he was honest. And inspiring in this inner struggles and rawness. I mean, he’s trying to be this ultimate brute, and he is, oh definitely don’t underestimate him, but when he shows his soft spots, empathy and sensibility, man, then you’re in trouble, because then he really shines out.

But I guess that’s that diabolic thing about someone’s intelligence and emotions - actions. More you understand yourself, more you are prone to go deeper with yourself. And heavy self evaluating analysis are always bordering with the dark side. This topic is endless.

In my early 20's I loved Tropic of Cancer but couldn't finish Tropic of Capricorn... 25 years later and Cancer gets 5-stars and I still can't finish Capricorn :-D

The opening quarter was brilliant but by about 2/3rds of the way through I'd become so bogged down by all the cocks and cunts and self-importance that I was drowning so I just quit and sunk to the bottom.

American Beauty رواية السيد هنري تُذكرني بفيلم من إنتاج هوليوود اسمه
كلاهما يهدف لإزالة القشرة الخارجية المُحيطة بالمجتمع الأمريكي،والتي تمنح هذا المجتمع صورة لامعة لبقية العالم.. هدفهما فضح المجتمع الأمريكي،، فضح اللاإنسانية والبعد اللاأخلاقي في المجتمع الأمريكي. صورة مغايرة تماماً عما نراه في السينما الأمريكية.

أراه قد عرّج على المجتمع الأمريكي منذ نشأته "المضروبة أساساً" حتى يوم كتابة كتابه هذا.
فأولاً، هو مجتمع لص..اعتمد السرقة في بناء ذاته لأعوامٍ طويلة جداً لقرون!
ثانياً، لم يحترم الآخر.. رأى نفسه هو الأعرق بجنسه الأبيض القادم من وراء البحار.. ومن السخيف جداً أن يعترض الأمريكان وامم العالم على نظرية الجنس الآري التي قال بها وقام بها هتلر، دون أدنى إشارة للتمييز العنصري الذي قام به الأوروبيون "المقتحمون" لتلك القارة الجديدة على مر عصورٍ طويلة !!
ثالثاً، اليوم أمريكا.. رأسمالية عن سبق الإصرار والترصد، البقاء لمن يملك مالاً، رأسمالية قبيحة.. تُخفي وراءها العديد من الجياع الذين قلما نراهم في الواجهة الأمريكية.
رابعاً، ذكر اللاحضارة الأمريكية، تماماً كما كنتُ أقول.. القارة الأمريكية بالمجتمع الحالي.. خالية من الحضارة بلاد لا تملك حضارةً أو تار��خاً عريقاً يضرب في عمق التاريخ... إنها ذات حضارة زائفة، تجمع من أعراقٍ عدة..لبناء هيكلاً لبلدٍ جديد، استمرت تلك الأعراق في العنصرية المتبادلة أعواماً. وأشك في أنهم قد اتفقوا يوماً !

"كان علي أن أذهب لأغرق نفسي في خليج مكسيكو ليتوفر لي عذر للاستمرار في هذا الوجود الحضاري الزائف"

*أعجبني ما قاله، عن أن المدن الأوروبية مهما تطورت و واكبت العصر،إلا أن المدينة القديمة الطابع القديم التاريخي يبقى ضارباً في عمق الأرض..على العكس من أمريكا.. التي تهدم القديم أولاً بأول لقصور عالياتٍ وناطحاتِ سحاب.

هنالك نقطة صراحة صُدمت بها، فلم أكن أعلم أن المجتمع الامريكي نبذ اليهود ذات يوم.. كنتُ أظنّ أنه رحب بهم وجداً.. لكن يبدو أن اليهود قد نبذوا من كافة المجتمعات..حتى الصديقة منها اليوم،، المهم الآن، صاروا "الكل في الكل" والسيطرة لهم في دولة رأسمالية بامتياز، أليسوا هم رأس المال العالمي!

أخيراً استخدامه للمسميات بلُغة الشارع،،فمن الواضح جداً أنه يقصد هذا.. وإلا كيف سيزيح الستار عن "الواجهة الجمالية لأمريكا" دون التلفظ بألفاظ الشارع.. التي تُقال في كل حين.. ولكنها تُنكر في الأدب. فمن النادر أن يقوم كاتب بذكرها كما ترد في الشارع!

ملحوظة// طبيعي أن الأمريكان قد منعوا كتبه لسنينٍ خلت، كيف لا، وقد رأوا الحقيقة المُرّة التي يخشونها؟!! ومَن منا يقبلُ بالحقيقة المُرّة؟!!!
////

أود أن أفر هارباً صوب فجر دائم بسرعة وقسوة لا يتركان حيزاً للندامة،للحسرة أو التوبة.أودُّ أن أبزّ الإنسان الخلّاق الذي هو لعنة على الأرض كي أقف من جديد على شفير هوةٍ لا يمكن تجاوزها ولن تقوى أقدرُ الأجنحة على نقلي عبرها. حتى لو أضحيتُ حديقةً بريةً لا يؤمها غير الحالمين الكسالى، فلن أكف عن الاستراحة هنا في الحماقة المنظّمة لحياةٍ راشدةٍ مسؤولة.يجب أن أفعل هذا كذكرى لطفلٍ خُنق وكُبت بإجماع الذين استسلموا.أتبرأ من كل ما ابتكره الآباء والأمهات.أنا عائد إلى عالمٍ أصغر حتى من العالم الهيليني القديم،عائد إلى عالم أستطيع فيه أن ألمس بذراعين ممدودتين،عالمٍ مكونٍ مما أعرف وأرى وأُردك من لحظة إلى لحظة.كل عالم آخر لا معنى له بالنسبة إليّ،وغريب وعدائي. حين سأتجاوز العالم البرّاق الأول الذي عرفته طفلاُ من جديد لا أريد أن أبقى هناك بل سأشقُ طريق العودة إلى عالمٍ أشدُّ بريقاً من الذي هربت منه. أما ماذا يشبه هذا العالم فلا علم لي، ولستُ حتى متأكداً من أني سأعثرُ عليه، لكنه عالمي ولا شيء دونه يأسرُني.

لا شيء يمكن تغييره إلا بتغيير القلب/ ومن يستطيع أن يغير قلوب البشر؟

أروع فرصة تمنحها الحياة هي أن نكون إنسانيين.

Seeing Jeffrey's excellent review reminded me how much I admired some of Miller's works, especially his letters to Lawrence Durrell and the Colossus of Maroussi.

Found it completely pointless. Maybe I dont get surreal style at all. Maybe this zig-zag approach to reality makes me dizzy.

Point is, I am sure many of his admirers, if they missed the famous author name, would feel as I do about this book.

This book broke a lot of conventions when it was published. It's a passionate, angry, filthy torrent of language. You detect the influence of the surrealists, Walt Whitman and expecially Louis Ferdinand Celine, and Miller became a big influence upon the likes of Keruoac and the Beats and Charles Bukowski.

n  "I wanted to be wide awake without talking or writing about it, in order to accept life absolutely."n

Tropic of Capricorn is certainly a much more mature and controlled novel than his earlier works. One of the most intellectually stimulating works of literature I've ever read.

[Explicit Review] This book was so vile I threw it in the trash so that one less copy will be in circulation on this earth. This author is supposed to challenge what is considered "normal" or "polite" conversation. He "challenges" the idea that sex, bathroom humor and substance abuse are things you should never bring up. Instead of doing any of that he uses that as a front to talk about abusing women and being a sexist, racist homophobic piece of shit. This book is so fucking disgusting. This man uses every racial and cultural slur I can think of. He not once refers to a vagina as a vagina but instead uses almost exclusively the c-word and NOT in a complementary manner. He uses the N-word unironically and in a way that shows us he is a white man with power over people of color. He uses the k-word among others for Jews, which I didn't even know existed. This man is utter trash and his literature should be burned in a fire it is that useless. I have never been so disgusted by a book in my life. If this book had been written in 2021 this man would have lost all credit as an author. I do NOT suggest reading this. I gave it a chance because he is supposedly a "famous author" but honestly this isn't even worth hate-reading. Spare yourself the racism, sexism and abuse and go read something like Stamped to learn exactly why shit like this is not OK.

Should have been banned for its banality rather than its sexual content. I recently reread the first page and counted five cliches.* I'd've found more had I the strength to continue. Miller had pluck, sure, and ballsful of bravado. But talent? I might've wanted to drink with him in some Dijon bordello, listen to one or two of his stories outloud (his novels certainly read like they were dictated) but his written words are weak and watery. Of course, he couldn't see that, blinded as he was by his outsized ego.

*More than five, actually: "given up the ghost" "dead certainty" "I was my own worst enemy." "bored me to tears" "sympathetic to a fault" "a change of heart" "at first blush"

There were many other soft cliches and tired turns of phrase, all on page one. I checked other pages, just in case he was making a pre-post modern comment of some kind, but no, no. His writing, in all of his books (the eight or so that I've read, anyway) is replete with laziness (intermingled with bits of careless genius).

Henry Miller is mad. I’m not sure anymore that he’s mad in a good way. This book was more ranting and raving of a genius writer, but if you take it personally it can appall or depress you. I didn’t think it was as good as Tropic of Cancer. That book was a constant high for me, but this one faltered at many places and at times bored me. But boredom doesn’t last longer than a page or two when reading this book. Something really good will take you out of it and keep you out of it for a good while.

Looking at some of the reviews here it looks like misogyny is a matter of contention regarding Miller. I think they’re missing the point. It’s like accusing him of anti-Semitism because of how he wrote about the Jews that he knew. Miller is just intense, and he writes with passion and bluntness. Personal hyper-sensitivities should be left out when reading Miller. I actually don’t find him misogynistic at all. He writes about his raw desires with zeal and intensity and he doesn’t see a need to post-script it with “oh, and I’m not saying that women should not be respected or don’t have anything else to offer other than sex.” Expecting every male writer to say or imply such thing is just another form of vanity. Some women need to get over their obsession to analyze every male write, looking for signs of “misogyny.”