Wow. Just jaw dropping.

This is truly one of the best things I’ve read in a very long time. It is a masterpiece of 20th century literature that simply astounds.

It reminds me a bit of Saul Bellow, yet it has its own distinct charm. It is more confined, with its narrative neatly drawn, and it doesn't feel as desperate in flaunting its own genius.

This is the kind of book that I would excitedly discuss for a long time in the back of a bar, or while strolling along a windy street with someone, gesticulating animatedly. However, when it comes to writing a capsule review, I find myself at a loss for words.

It is a perfect novel, and I recommend it in the highest possible terms. It is a must-read for anyone who appreciates great literature and wants to experience a work that will leave a lasting impression.

Another long time ago, I had a desire that I always wanted to fulfill but never got around to doing it.

Recently, I finally managed to achieve that long-held wish, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The character descriptions in this experience were truly great. Each character was so vividly portrayed that I felt as if I had met bits and pieces of every one of them in real life.

It was such a wonderful and engaging encounter that I would highly recommend it to others without hesitation.

This is an experience that I will cherish for a long time and will surely share with my friends.

It has opened up a new world for me and made me realize that sometimes, we just need to take the courage to pursue our dreams and not let them remain unfulfilled for too long.

I am looking forward to more such amazing experiences in the future.

Faulkner moved to New Orleans in 1925 when he was 27 years old, with a firm determination to write fiction. Up to that point, he had regarded himself as a poet.

During his six-month stay in New Orleans, he published a group of "sketches" in the main New Orleans literary magazine, The Double Dealer. He also managed to sell sixteen signed stories and sketches to The Times-Picayune.

Faulkner spent a part of his time in New Orleans "sauntering in the Quarter and along the Mississippi River docks, and sitting at cafes and in Jackson Square" with the writer Sherwood Anderson. While in New Orleans, Faulkner also began writing his first novel, "Soldier's Pay."

Aspiring writers and creators should take heart, as William Faulkner wasn't born as a great writer. He had to work hard. These stories and sketches, which seem to progress chronologically, range from mediocre to good, hinting that maybe this guy would one day write masterpieces like "As I Lay Dying" and "The Sound and the Fury." The latter was published in 1929, just four years after he'd decided to write fiction.

His New Orleans Sketches were written in New Orleans, but they aren't truly about the city. Faulkner doesn't necessarily focus on the aspects that make New Orleans unique; his subject is people. And, unlike his later creation, Yoknapatawpha County, these people just happen to live in New Orleans.

Binx Bolling and his existential despair truly left me feeling apathetic. The characters of Sharon, Kate, and Mercer also failed to ignite any real interest within me. I find myself sorry for Walker Percy's seemingly sad life, but unfortunately, reading this book did little to improve my perception.

However, there were certain phrases that managed to wake me up. The description of "a mare's tail of cirrus cloud" painted a vivid and almost ethereal image in my mind. The "wrenching rinsing sadness of the cities of the North" captured a sense of melancholy that was both powerful and poignant. The "canny management of the shocks of life" made me reflect on how we all try to navigate the unexpected twists and turns that come our way. The phrase "locked in a death grip with everydayness" spoke to the feeling of being trapped in the mundane and unremarkable aspects of life. And finally, the mention of "her nylon-whispering legs" added a touch of sensuality and mystery to the narrative.

Overall, while the book as a whole may not have been a particularly engaging read for me, these phrases stood out and provided moments of inspiration and reflection.

Six stars for passages early on and random phrases throughout.

At times, it reaches a level of excellence that is truly remarkable. It's like a precursor to Denis Johnson or perhaps Proust suffering from PTSD after returning from the Korean War, yet still a perceptive philosophical New Orleans broker.

I've known about this work for approximately 25 years, but it was only recently recommended as being adjacent to my recent writing.

The search, the battle against stagnation and routine, the appreciation of the human form, the natural looseness of life, and the Euro-informed yet entirely American aesthetic are all captivating aspects.

I loved this until just after the narrator and his secretary (who affectionately calls him “son” - a detail I adored) engage in a passionate encounter on a Gulf Coast beach and then drive off in his charming little MG to a house occupied by his extended family.

From that point on, despite the occasional extraordinary passages and phrases, I felt my enthusiasm and engagement wane due to an abundance of characters and fewer instances of pitch-perfect essayistic abstraction.

I wish I had read it in the mid-‘90s. This is definitely a writer whose work I will explore further in the next 25 years.

Angst. And more angst.

"I hold springtime in my arms, the fullness of it and the rinsing sadness of it," thinks our narrator, Binx. The world seems to be filled with this unnameable, persistent feeling of unease. Even the cars on the road seem to suffer from a certain, ongoing malaise, as if they too are affected by the general atmosphere of discontent.

Binx often seeks solace in the movies, visiting various theatres in the hope of finding some form of escape. But instead of finding entertainment and joy, he only encounters other angst-ridden movie-goers. Is that the point? That movies, which are supposed to be a source of entertainment and distraction, don't really make people happier?

For what it's worth, I disagree. While it's true that movies may not be a cure-all for the world's problems, they can still provide a momentary respite from the daily grind. They can transport us to different worlds, introduce us to new ideas and perspectives, and even make us laugh or cry. In a way, movies are like a mirror, reflecting our own hopes, fears, and desires back at us. And sometimes, that's all we need to feel a little bit better.

Nowadays, when a person resides in a particular place, within a neighborhood, that place often doesn't hold a sense of certification or belonging for him. More likely than not, he will live there in a state of sadness, and the emptiness within him will gradually expand until it seems to evacuate the entire neighborhood. However, if he happens to watch a movie that depicts his very own neighborhood, it becomes possible for him, at least for a time, to live as a person who is truly in that specific "Somewhere" and not just in any random "Anywhere".

I would wager that one must be a white man, ideally from the South and preferably Catholic, to have an affinity for this book. I don't believe it was written with anyone else in mind. (Anecdotally speaking, the only individuals I know who are fond of Walker Percy are male WASPs. I have yet to hear a woman of any persuasion speak admiringly of his novels.)

This is the second Percy novel that I have read, and I didn't find it any more appealing than the first one, namely "Love in the Ruins". His blatant racism and sexism are extremely difficult for me to overlook, especially since they don't seem to serve any narrative purpose. The excuse that it was simply "that kind of time" is weak and cowardly, considering there are numerous Southern writers who never stoop to Percy's ugly form of bigotry. Honestly, I have no idea what people see in him. His writing style isn't terrible, but it's also not great; it simply isn't worth all of the moral repugnance that it elicits.

It is evident that Percy admired and emulated Saul Bellow, yet he lacks all of Bellow's verve, wit, and style. Bellow, at the very least, had the self-composure to temper his racism and sexism. Percy, on the other hand, resorts to using awful stereotypes as crutches on almost every page. Binx Bolling is an uninteresting and depraved individual, perhaps the worst kind of depraved person. (Herzog, for instance, is difficult due to his own brand of overt misogyny and racism, but he is at least interesting and self-aware of his depravity. Bolling can lay no claim to such attributes.) His aunt is a worthwhile character, and I followed her dialogue with interest, but nothing else in this novel really "stuck" with me. (The rest of the women are cheap, two-dimensional archetypes of the 1960s, typically being the ideally lubricious girl who frequently has an "extravagant womanish sort of whim.")

I would suggest that if you are a lover of Percy, perhaps it's time to move beyond him and转向 Bellow, who accomplishes what Percy is attempting to do but with greater skill and a touch less hatefulness. I will not be giving Percy another try.

I recently listened to an audiobook that was narrated by Christopher Hurt.

His narration was truly captivating and brought the story to life in a whole new way.

As I listened, I could easily imagine the scenes and characters, thanks to his excellent voice acting skills.

The pacing of his narration was just right, keeping me engaged from start to finish.

Christopher Hurt has a wonderful ability to convey the emotions and nuances of the story through his voice, making it a truly immersive listening experience.

I would highly recommend any audiobook narrated by him to anyone who enjoys a good story and great narration.

Whether you're commuting, doing chores, or just relaxing, an audiobook narrated by Christopher Hurt is sure to provide hours of entertainment.

So, if you're looking for a new audiobook to listen to, be sure to check out those narrated by Christopher Hurt. You won't be disappointed!

Before I delved into 'The Moviegoer', my acquaintance with Walker Percy was rather limited. It mainly stemmed from reading A Confederacy of Dunces, a novel not penned by Percy himself but one that he unearthed, published, and even wrote the foreword for. Additionally, his friendship with Shelby Foote also contributed to my somewhat hazy perception of him.

However, as I progressed through the first fifty pages of 'The Moviegoer', I found myself on the verge of proclaiming my unwavering love for Walker Percy. This remarkable work instantly reminded me of a unique blend of southern Catholic literature. It was as if Graham Greene's Catholic ambiguity, F. Scott Fitzgerald's melancholy and romantic tone, and William Gaddis' playful allusiveness had come together in a harmonious union.

With Greene's moral and spiritual uncertainties, Fitzgerald's ability to evoke a sense of longing and loss, and Gaddis' penchant for hidden meanings and literary references, Percy gracefully dances through the complex and often treacherous minefield of the modern and postmodern world. His prose is both charming and stylish, drawing the reader in and captivating them with its depth and beauty.

'The Moviegoer' is truly a masterpiece that showcases Percy's literary genius and his profound understanding of the human condition in a rapidly changing world.

As for me, I prefer to stay home with Mrs Schexnaydre and turn on the TV. It's not that I'm overly fond of TV; rather, it doesn't divert my attention from the wonder. That's precisely the reason why I can't engage in the kind of activities they do. It's distracting, and for even a single moment, I don't want to be distracted from the wonder.

I first fell in love with this book when I read it in my twenties, and now that I'm older and, well, definitely more experienced, my affection for it has only grown. So, what is this book about? The final line in the book perhaps provides the best answer: "It is impossible to say." However, if you, as the reader, identify yourself as a "wayfarer and a pilgrim" (using Percy's terms), it's easy to immerse yourself in this novel and accompany Binx through the ordinary aspects of his life in New Orleans, which he both enjoys and resists.

I constantly find myself reflecting on the underlying philosophy (summed up as two simple questions here) that guided Percy's Uncle Will as he raised his three nephews after the tragic loss of both parents: "What do you love? What do you live by?" I believe these queries linger throughout The Moviegoer, but only to outline the nature of the quest, not to offer solutions. They are excellent questions that can define the True North for anyone who knows how to answer them (ah, but there's the catch).

I'm providing a link below to a 2019 New Yorker article that explores the enduring significance of Percy's 1961 publication. The article is written by the author of The Life You Save May Be Your Own: An American Pilgrimage.

We Still Live In The Mediated, Alienated World of The Moviegoer

The Moviegoer by Walker Percy won the National Book Award for Fiction in 1961. Time Magazine also included the novel on its list of 100 best English language novels from 1923 - 2005.

Today marks my thirtieth birthday. I'm sitting on the ocean wave in the schoolyard, waiting for Kate and thinking of nothing. Now, in the thirty-first year of my dark pilgrimage on this earth, I know less than ever before. I can only recognize merde when I see it. I've inherited no more from my father than a good nose for merde, for every species of shit that flies - my only talent.

The Moviegoer is about Binx Bollinger, an aimless, unmarried twenty-nine-year-old stockbroker from New Orleans. Binx has plenty of spare time and spends a significant portion of it at the movie theater. He even takes trips to his favorite theaters along the Gulf Coast and on a trip to Chicago.

Binx isn't a terribly sympathetic protagonist. He's not a menace to society per se, but he is a misogynist and quite fond of dating his secretaries. I couldn't determine if this sexism was common for the time period and part of the author's world view or if he was trying to make Binx less likable. Binx is good looking and doesn't have to work too hard. However, he has this strange combination of being both superficial and deeply introspective, and equally observant of his surroundings. His experiences from serving in the Battle of Cochin in the Korean War don't seem to haunt him in the same way as they do his "best" friend who lives in Chicago. His cousin Kate suffers from depression, and he seems both supportive of her and oddly detached. Perhaps he is so sympathetic because of his own depression.

There are some issues with this book. There isn't much action to be found in it, nor is there much of a plot beyond capturing a few weeks in the life of this lost soul. Writing about stockbrokers isn't typically bestseller material.

Now for the praise. Percy does an excellent job of capturing the atmosphere in New Orleans. He writes eloquently about the surroundings and can clearly turn a phrase. He touches on mental illness in this novel - probably not a surprise since the author lost both parents to suicide, in separate incidents, while a teenager. The protagonist is the lens that allows Percy to convey a rich milieu of New Orleans and its eclectic set of characters - Binx's friends and relatives.

There is something about Percy's Southern style of writing and his acumen that made me feel that this novel could have been better. Perhaps this novel could have been a Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, Homeward Bound, or a Summons to Memphis. Instead, it lacked the required drama and fell a little flat, despite the writing being of superior quality.

3.5 stars. I don't normally write reviews of books that aren't four or five stars - but I did so here because this one had a lot of potential.

I'm currently in the midst of a writing battle, so I can't write a full review on my third read of The Moviegoer just yet. However, I have to say a few things quickly before I head back to the trenches. This book truly grows with you. As Flannery O'Connor said, if a story grows for you, it's because of the mystery of the Eucharist within it. And that's exactly what Newkirk stated about The Moviegoer - the Eucharist is at its heart. This read made it come alive even more for me as I began to pick up on the sacrament and mystery at work.

Another thing I noticed is that I started this book on a Wednesday afternoon, and of course, in typical Percy fashion, the story begins on a Wednesday. Percy has written about Wednesday afternoons many times, and I recall one passage where he said, "[Man] has the perverse capacity for getting things backwards and upside down. He, of all creatures, is capable of feeling good during hurricanes and sad on ordinary Wednesday afternoons." I didn't finish the book on a Wednesday afternoon because I didn't want to make it any sadder.

Onwards, fellow moviegoers! Lots of love to you all. Go watch a film and read The Moviegoer! <3

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Original review (from second read):

After rereading, this book is still top-notch material. As Binx would say, it's "a successful repetition." Walker Percy is the master of small details. There are only a few writers, like Percy and Mike Mills, who really understand New Orleans. They write about it in a way that shows they know all the little details that make it unique and charming. It's that special feeling of being understood because your city has been captured through the right lens, picking up on all those wonderful details you thought only you and your fellow locals knew. There are countless passages I marked "description!" or "detail!" because Percy described everything so well. He can describe the "freakishly warm" March days in New Orleans and the feeling of standing on the street watching a night parade on St. Charles Avenue. It's all supremely gorgeous.

For example, "A rushing Gulf wind slashes the banana leaves into ribbons and blows dead camellia blooms across the yard. Veils of rain parted for a second by the house, rush back together again…" All while capturing New Orleans, Percy presents a story focused on human emotions, subtle complexities, and the imperfect character. Binx Bolling is a complex character, and we get to know all his little eccentricities and passing thoughts. In many ways, he's the perfect movie character - we observe him as he observes life. It's like a double movie or a double feature. It's truly marvelous.

Alright, here are a few quotes I love. The last page of section 2 is my favorite scene in the whole book. It was deeply perplexing on my first read, but now it seems somewhat familiar. It's beautiful yet devastating: "Not a bad life, you say. It would be the best of all possible lives." She speaks in a rapture – something like my aunt. My heart sinks. It is too late. She has already overtaken herself. "Don't—worry about it." "I won't! I won't"--as enraptured and extinguished in her soul, gone, as a character played by Eva Marie Saint. Leaning over, she hugs herself. "Is everything going to be all right?" "Yes." "Tell me. Say it." "Everything is going to be all right."

And a few more: "Joy and sadness come by turns, I know now. Beauty and bravery make you sad, and victory breaks your heart. But life goes on and on we go, spinning along the coast in a violet light." "Nowadays when a person lives somewhere, in a neighborhood, the place is not certified for him. More than likely he will live there sadly and the emptiness inside him will expand until it evacuates the entire neighborhood. But if he sees a movie which shows his very neighborhood, it becomes possible for him to live, for a time at least, as a person who is Somewhere and not Anywhere." "Why do you want to be a soldier?" "How simple it would be to fight. What a pleasant thing it must be to be among people who are afraid for the first time when you yourself for the first time in your life have a proper flesh-and-blood enemy to be afraid of."