Masterpiece. Simply stunning. Miller is now my favourite author of all time.


We’re all dreamers, only some of us wake up in time to put down a few words. Certainly I want to write. But I don’t think it’s the end-all and be-all. How shall I put it? Writing is like the caca that you make in your sleep. Delicious caca, to be sure, but first comes life, then the caca. Life is change, movement, quest …… going forward to meet the unknown, the unexpected. Only a very few men can say of themselves - “I have lived!”. That’s why we have books - so that we may live vicariously.

Easily the best of the three. Short, precise with a great flow and structure. What we see is a Miller acquiesce to the power of Mona after she had torn his heart out after traveling to Europe with her lesbian lover. Miller seems to admit to being in need of a womb - a temperate environ with the right variables that allow him to dream; to run his motor until it cools and he can write. Nexus is the start of his real journey; the actualization of his unconscious fantasy and labored dream. Miller is a victim of his own passions: he is the dreamer who views life through an opaque glass and all he does is an attempt to shatter that glass. He wants an unobscured view of life. He only can do this through writing, without it he is a mouth with legs that consumes mindlessly like a blackhole.

Ham! Ham, ham! Ham! Ham!
Latru în noapte. Latru, latru. Strig, dar nimeni nu-mi răspunde. Urlu, dar nici măcar ecoul nu-mi răspunde.
„Ce preferi – Estul lui Xerxes sau Estul lui Hristos?”
Singur – cu eczemă pe creier.
Singur, în sfârșit! Cât de minunat! Numai că nu așa mă așteptasem eu să fie. Ah, dacă-aș putea să fiu măcar singur cu Dumnezeu!
Ham! Ham! Ham!
Închid ochii și îi invoc imaginea. Iat-o plutind în întuneric, o mască închegată din stropii spumei de mare: bouche â la Tilla Durieux, arcuită, dinți albi, regulați, ochii înnegriți de rimei, pleoapele de un albastru sclipitor, vâscos; părul revărsat sălbatic, negru ca abanosul. Actrița provenită din Carpați și din mansardele Vienei. Răsărită, precum Venus, pe maidanele din Brooklyn.
Ham! Ham, ham! Ham! Ham!
Urlu, dar pentru cei din jur urletul meu nu-i decât o șoaptă.

Esta es la parte de la historia de Miller en la que aún no ha ido a Europa, pero Mona le mete la idea en la cabeza de hecho se va adelante abandonándolo por un rato (con la otra novia de ella, con la que vivían Astasia) es la historia de cómo logró finalmente ponerse en serio a escribir aunque ni tuviera que decir, como empezó a amar el acto de la lectura y a evaluar la lógica de jugar a Dios al escribir una novela. Hay una novela que escribe él, y que Mona inventa que es de ella para recibir la financiación de uno de aquellos... ahí Miller comienza a vivir la disciplina de la máquina de escribir. Es lindo que en este relato el no se pinta como mal ser humano, tiene un amigo judío que es su amigo y son unidos. Es quién es claro, pero no sé pinta peor de lo que es. Me encantó.

Dugujem svojem malobrojnom čitateljstvu dva kratka osvrta.
Nexus je meni osobno najbolji dio trilogije. Smatram da je uzeo najbolje iz prvog i drugog dijela i stilski izvrsno složio završni dio trilogije. Čak je i fabula imala nekakav prirodni tijek, sa taman toliko esejističkih dijelova, iz područja književnosti, slikarstva, filozofije, slikarstva i povijesti umjetnosti, da ne skrene bit s glavne priče čiji su protagonist Miller i njegova partnerica Mona. O samoj radnji neću naširoko. Glavna okosnica jest to da Miller pokušava napisati neki roman, dok ga Mona uzdržava radeći u nekakvom plesnjaku, ala striptizu klubu, gdje upoznaje razne udvarače koji joj daju novce u zamjenu za čavrljanje i druženje uz nadu da će je uspit oženit. Mona je nešto kao današnja Sugar baby, samo što stvarno voli Millera i njemu daje tu lovu i želi da uspije ko pisac. Krajnji cilj je odlazak u Europu, odnosno Pariz (gdje je Miller i u stvarnom životu napokon napisao prve svoje romane, tek s 40 godina) Takav način života se provlačio kroz cijelu trilogiju. Millerova karakterizacija likova nije detaljna i slojevita, ali ne može se reći da je nema. Likovi su kompleksni, a ponajviše ih upoznajemo i shvaćamo putem njihovog djelovanja i postupcima u određenim situacijama, a ono nešto dublje saznajemo iz riječi samog lika Henrya Millera koji je i narator u prvom licu.
U konačnici moram još reći da se prvi dio trilogije - Sexus, razlikuje od Plexusa i Nexusa, najviše po tome što je u Sexusu velik naglasak na pornografiji, dok u ovim romanima to nije slučaj. Stilski su mi Plexus i Nexus sjeli bolje, ali je Sexus zabavniji. U Sexusu stvarno šamara moraliste i konzervativce, pljuje na pretenciozno modernističko pisanje i ogoljuje svoj jezik do same srži.

Finally, I have finished reading the last book in Henry Miller's Rosy Crucifixion Trilogy. I guess by this time, I have a deeper understanding of Henry Miller, having read the whole trilogy, as well as the Tropics.

See, somehow, after reading this book, I don't have an enthusiastic opinion of Henry Miller as when I first read Tropic of Cancer. I used to like him. I used to like the idea that he mixed up fact and fiction, writing about his Bohemian life in Paris. But now, after reading the three volumes of the Rosy Crucifixion Trilogy, I don't have the same respect for him as back then.

First, I don't like the fact that he never showed versatility. It seems that the only thing or topic he could write about was his life. Nothing more. He wrote about his life in Tropic of Cancer, in Tropic of Capricorn, and in the Rosy Crucifixion. But aside from that, he never deviated elsewhere. I know that he has published other books, but after reading five books of his, I am afraid to pick up another one fearing that it might be of the same topic once again.

See, other writers can explore other topics. Jose Saramago is the author I have read the most, and while preserving a grand idea across his many books, he also was able to explore this grand idea in plenty of different manifestations across various different topics and themes. The same goes for Salman Rushdie, another author I have read multiple times. Henry Miller on the other hand seems to only be capable of writing about his life and nothing else.

Granted, one thing that Henry Miller should be given credit for is the fact that he had a very brilliant idea of mixing fact and fiction. After all, that was the great discovery attributed to his first books. However, I think he is for the most part, reusing his idea. He just has one great idea, and he used it again and again. After a few books, it tends to be boring. Not to mention the fact that his lifestyle isn't the most virtuous one either. I have nothing against artists and Bohemians, but the way he described his life makes it look like he expects people to take care of him while he simply sits in front of the typewriter plonking away. Sure, there is a hard climb to fame and prosperity if one takes the artistic path, but don't simply go ahead bumming your way by cheating people around you who actually work for a living.

Overall, I think I still liked this book, but not as much as his previous books. I think by now, I've been jaded and won't be picking up another Henry Miller book anytime soon. 3 out of 5 stars.

See my other book reviews here.

The last and shortest volume of the Rosy Crucifixion Trilogy actually ended up feeling like the longest to me. I would rank this one around 3.25 out of 5. I really wanted to like it. There is not much plot to speak of, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but the book ended up feeling very repetitive and monotonous since HM writes all the characters with basically the same voice i.e. his own. There are lots of times when other characters tell Henry how brilliant he is and how great of a writer he could be. I started to wonder if maybe to get the most out of this book, you have to buy into this way of thinking and basically sit at the feet of the master HM as he spins yarn after yarn. Personally, I was never convinced that Henry was quite on the level of someone like Nietzsche or Jesus Christ, so I had difficulty engaging his every thought and flight of fancy. It just feels like he wanted to write an epic work, so he really went for it at the type-writer with barely any editing. Which results in the books feeling like they are full of filler. I'm sure Henry Miller was a very nice intelligent man, but I don't think, with this trilogy, that he quite succeeded in creating the eternal epic masterpiece he might have set out for.

الوشيجة هي الحلقة الأخيرة من ثلاثية الصلب الوردي .
اسهب ميلر عن حياته الزوجية و ماذا حدث لزوجته مونا عندما تقربت من ستاسيا . وكيف سافرا إلى باريس بغتة .
عندما تتقدم في السن تتغير الأولويات وهذا ما حدث ميلر كذلك . يروي لنا كيف تطور اسلوب حديثه و كتاباته . و اسلوب حياته.
بهذا أنهينا ثلاثية الصلب الوردي . بنهايه تثبت جوده ميلر و حديثه الذي لا يمل
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Absolutamente brilhante, toda a trilogia.

The third book in The Rosy Crucixion series. Rambling.

Indubbiamente ci sono passaggi interessanti, me li sono pure appuntati. Ma è troppo discorsivo, troppo "interrogativo" e non abbastanza narrativo :( Meno divertente di "Tropico del cancro".

Henry Miller had prepared himself to become a writer for almost whole life and finally he'd become one of the greatest I'd ever read. One cannot be the same after reading Henry Miller the greatest reader and writer of all time