Is Henry Miller famous? Or is he just infamous? Or is he both?

I have just finished reading a book of his essays, reviews, and prefaces entitled Stand Still Like the Hummingbird (1962) and find myself alternately idolizing and deploring the man’s work. Of course, he is probably most famous for his novels featuring S-E-X, especially The Tropic of Cancer (1934). And yet, he can write like a Bodhisattva, as in the essays “The Hour of Man” and “The Immorality of Morality.”

In the latter essay, he wrote what I regard as the definitive answer as to how to live in the era of Trump:

Neither would I urge one to run away from the danger zone. The danger is everywhere: there are no safe and secure places in which to start a new life. Stay where you are and make what life you can among the impending ruins. Do not put one thing above another in importance. Do only what has to be done—immediately. Whether the wave is ascending or descending, the ocean is always there. You are a fish in the ocean of time, you are a constant in an ocean of change, you are nothing and everything at one and the same time. Was the dinner good? Was the grass green? Did the water slake your thirst? Are the stars still in the heavens? Does the sun still shine? Can you talk, walk, sing, play? Are you still breathing?

And yet, in another essay entitled “To Read or Not To Read,” Miller brags about reading fewer books “I tried to make it clear that, as a result of indiscriminate reading over a period of sixty years, my desire now is to read less and less.”

Is it perhaps because Miller also sees himself as a painter, particularly of water colors? The ones I have seen are pretty good, and I shouldn’t be surprised if the author likes the act of pure creativity involved in coming up with these scenes, which he does not paint from life.

In the end, I see Henry Miller as, at times, gifted by his muses—and at other times merely producing when the muses aren’t present. There is a certain lack of consistency in his work. I will continue to read him for the times I find he is spot on. This book has elemts of both Henrys.

"El tiempo no interviene en la aceleración del espíritu. La puerta está siempre abierta. Hoy es como todos los días. Solo existe el hoy"

I simply am not interested in all of this book. Just most of it. There are some fantastic lines:
..every moment; every sin already carries grace within it.
The greatest revolutions known to man had their inception in moments of silence.
Creator and creation are one and indivisible.
Man is in revolt against himself. How can he overthrow himself?
Man has his being not in a vacuum of historical facts, but in a realm of magic and mystery. Only in the myth does he have courage to acknowledge the glory of his origin, the power of his spirit.
Are we not all victims of fear and anxiety precisely because we lack faith and trust in one another?

A collection of essays, most not autobiographical as his other books were.
The piece "First Love" is personal though, and is the most charming item in this volume.
The remainder of the stories are discourses on money, religion, etc and some can be long-winded and tedious. But he also had that tendency at times in his more personal volumes. Still, this is a necessary read for Miller fans, if only to flesh out his opinions on the big issues.

I deeply adored this book. It's the kind of book that I think when I re-read it, I'll discover new things to love. I want to recommend this book to about 5 completely different people. I want to talk about it. I want to book club it. I want to take it camping and re-read the parts about Walden. I want to find an economist and laugh with them over the essay about money, and how it got that way.

With the presidential race, and Brexit it also felt oddly timely. Every generation feels at sea and vaguely like the world is collapsing around them.

The King is dead, long live the King.

Some of the best essays around.

This was such a great read. Some stories and essays were better than others, but for the most part, Miller's voice is one that should be heard by everyone. My personal favorite is "The Immorality of Morality." Great read and highly recommend!

I recently made the mistake of again buying a book that intrigued me, and finding out I had read it before, but then deciding to read again. In this case it’s Henry Miller’s Stand Still Like The Humminhbird. Miller is a best known for his ribald scatalogical novels, but has written a number of wonderful non-fiction books about his travels and his philosophy of life. This is one them, a series of short essays he wrote over the course of his lifetime. Something of a hodgepodge, often times both tedious but literally wonderful. Reading the book is like digging for precious golden nuggets of insight and beautiful poetic writing in what can be otherwise long stretches of overly erudite overlong repetitious prose. Well worth the searching through though, as any wise prospector knows. What you will find I won’t try to tell you, because that’s the amazing mystery of opening its pages.

lef- on a cha- at a conc- overloo- a pari-
cana-, theref- unfortu- onl- 1/2 consu-
maki- a prop- descri- imposs-

Some of the chapters kind of drag on, but the good ones (My Life As An Echo, Quest, The Immortality of Morality, To Read or Not To Read, and First Love) make this book a must read.

While several of the essays are quite enjoyable and further fascinating insight into the elder mind, many of the pieces feel like padding and are probably only of serious interest to the Miller completist.

Skipping about is called for and while religious trappings and seeming belief in the paranormal may only be humorous or metaphorical I enjoy the colors it gives his efforts. Sometimes reading the works of a few generations ago can feel a bit like exploring a lost civilization. Miller inspires and that’s really the best we can hope for despite his grouchy anti-hope dictum!

At various points: long-winded, rambling, vivid, compelling...