Absolutamente brilhante, toda a trilogia.

Incipit
Nella sua veste persiana attillata, col turbante uguale, era incantevole.
Plexus Incipitmania.com

Era fascinantă în rochia persană, strânsă pe corp și cu turbanul asortat la culoare. Venise primăvara așa încât îmbrăcase o pereche de mănuși lungi până la cot; o blană frumoasă, de culoarea cârtiței, îi învăluia gâtul plin, statuar. Alesesem, de comun acord, Brooklyn Heights, ca să închiriem un apartament, cât mai departe cu putință de toți cei pe care-i cunoșteam, mai cu seamă de Kronski și de Arthur Raymond. Ulric era singurul prieten căruia intenționam să-i dăm noua adresă. Urma să fie pentru noi o adevărată „vita nuova”, apărată de intruziunile lumii din afară.
Ziua în care am pornit în căutarea cuibului nostru de amor a fost îmbibată de o fericire radioasă. De câte ori ajungeam în fața unei uși și apăsam pe butonul soneriei, o înconjuram cu brațele și ne sărutam de mama focului. Rochia i se potrivea ca o teacă. Parcă niciodată nu fusese mai ispititoare. Uneori ușa se deschidea în fața noastră înainte de a ne fi putut desface unul din brațele celuilalt. Câte unii dintre proprietari ne cereau să le arătăm verigheta sau certificatul de căsătorie.

To twist a James Joyce title a bit, "Plexus" is a portrait of the artist trying to emerge from the young man. 

To the question people ask him — "Why don't you write like you talk?" — here Henry Miller looks for the answer.

The middle volume of his Rosy Crucifixion trilogy has Miller still living hand-to-mouth in New York with his stunning and enigmatic new wife, Mona, while trying in fits and starts to become the writer everyone says he can be. Set in the 1920s, a few years before he really would break through with 1934's "Tropic of Cancer," Miller is reaching into the past 25 years or so here, and befitting, perhaps, this look back at a Henry Miller who hadn't found himself yet artistically, "Plexus" is more plainspoken than the sex-fueled first volume, "Sexus," less prone to dazzling flights of fancy. And, surprisingly, "Plexus" almost entirely excises the "dirty parts" (though they were always much more than that) in favor of reminiscences about his childhood, his hopping from job to job (or to no job), the couple's many moves and Miller's emerging worldview — in fact, there's only one sex scene in the book, and it starts on page 381 of 640!

When Miller finds himself, he says, he'll know it. "And then I'll become a torch. I'll light up the world." On a similar theme, a mysterious young man prophesies: "You were made to walk through the fires."

Here we have Miller and Mona opening a speakeasy; Henry telling kids his own weird version of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears"; HM moving briefly to Florida with two friends; continuing to rely on benefactors who are drawn to him and want to help him financially and on admirers of Mona whose fawning support Miller does more than tolerate. "You lead a charmed life," a friend tells him. "If you meet with a sordid experience, you convert it into something beautiful."

That he does, though "Plexus" ultimately is not quite the book "Sexus" is, another marvelous finish notwithstanding. It's still quite good, though, if it does go on a bit. It's not just about Miller's quest to become a writer, of course, any more than any of his books are about any one thing. Life, art (Miller can be awfully pretentious), beliefs, memory, childhood, the soul's quest for knowledge; Miller, as always, lets it fly. He says, "When I look at those around me I see only the profiles of averted faces. They are trying not to look at life — it is too terrible or too horrible, too this or too that. They see only the awesome dragon of life, and they are impotent before the monster. If only they had the courage to look straight into the dragon's jaws!"

Miller does.

It’s Henry Miller, The Writer, The Artist, The man.

Flawed and in Love.

Penniless and Overjoyed.

His voyage, His journey, His Pain.

Read.

My favorite book so far that i’ve read in this Henry Miller Metaverse.. lol. The fact that it’s in the story of this one that he’s writing This Gentile World, disguising it as Mona’s writing, is so interesting to me. I’d read This Gentile World recently before this.

What a rich, wonderful world his writing is. Plexus, the 5th i’ve read (along with The Henry Miller Reader) might be the one that’s shown me i’m going to have to read them all.

¿Podrá algún día tener éxito?, ¿se le dará?, o es tan solo un vago, sin rumbo, un completo bohemio, un hombre de historias que va de acá para allá no sabiendo si lo que hoy hace a futuro servirá, un completo inútil, mantenido, que no posee nada, irritante y que solo tiene amigos por conveniencia, porque le prestan dinero, porque siempre están dispuestos a darle una mano. Es más, hasta su mujer lo mantiene, porque de alguna manera él es un cafiolo, un vividor y solo vaga, le gusta eso.
Pero esta historia es esto y mucho más, es un libro con varias y suculentas reflexiones acerca de la vida, que por momentos se vuelve repetitivo y vemos que no llega a nada, pero que nos mantiene cautivos, a pesar de saltar de un lugar a otro en la historia, a pesar de tener mil y un problemas, a pesar de todo vive, vive con una pulsión de vida errante, un verdadero “Rolling Stone” de alguna manera.

“Plexus”, al doilea volum din trilogia “Răstignirea trandafirie”, este cel în care Henry Miller se maturizează și devine, în sfârșit, scriitor. Viața pe care a trăit-o a meritat cu prisosință să devină roman, iar oamenii pe care i-a întâlnit chiar au fost personaje vivante și ar fi fost păcat să rămână anonime.

Mind blowing---

لا تشيح نظرك عن العالم ،،، أنظر أمامك ،، فالحياة واسعة ،،،
ميللر تكلم عن لا شيء و عن كل شيء !

Compared to Sexus, and a lot of Miller's other work, this felt duller. I can pardon good olde Miller, but I hope Nexus is not as disappointing.

Another digressive stream of consciousness from the resolute optimist, Henry Miller. Probably my least favourite volume of the series so far, it is still nonetheless full of philosophical prose that weave seamlessly through a tumultuous narrative, starring New York as much as a protagonist as the eccentric characters that inhabit it.

Dostoyevsky’s influence on Miller is clear here in his meandering style, and indeed Miller discusses Dostoyevsky at length. He also discusses Nietzsche. Miller’s urge to always affirm life is deeply Nietzschean, and it’s this optimism that makes the book an inspiring read.

Through this affirmative lens Miler is able to celebrate the more minimal pleasures of life. His recurrent tributes to food, for example, invite the reader to relish in the simplicity of such joys. It is in this way that Miller’s writing flourishes with a reverence for life and its simplicity, which we often needlessly complicate.