In the running for the 1962 National Book Award were some highly regarded authors and their works. Joseph Heller was in the running for "Catch 22", Richard Yates for "Revolutionary Road", and J.D. Salinger for "Franny & Zooey".

However, somehow, Walker Percy's "The Moviegoer" won. So, out of curiosity, I decided to read it.

I have to admit that it kind of redeems itself towards the end. But for a significant portion of the first 100 pages or so, it was filled with what I found to be sickening Southern witticisms and references to by-gone nonsense. There was just too much talk about the "malaise" and the "genie-soul", and I really had no clear idea what those terms meant exactly.

And then there was this overly grandiose language that really put me off. For example, the sentence "This very evening, no doubt, he has had an excellent meal at Galatoire's, and the blood of his portal vein bears away a golden harvest of nutrient globules" just seemed like a bit much. It made me think, "No. No. No."

Overall, my initial impression of "The Moviegoer" was not a positive one, but I'm willing to give it a chance to see if it can win me over in the end.

FAMOUS FACEPALM MOMENTS IN AMERICAN LITERARY HISTORY
NO. 32


On 15th May 1962, it was a crucial decision day for the National Book Award Committee. They had been carefully considering a shortlist of eleven books. 1961 was indeed a remarkable year for the American novel, with the shortlist featuring notable works such as Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates and Franny and Zooey by JD Salinger. However, among all eleven, a furious masterpiece of vicious satire stood out, which later became one of the most renowned books globally, Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. After some intense debate, they surprisingly gave the award for 1961 to The Moviegoer by Walker Percy.


Here's a useful tip for you: if you ever had the thought of reading The Moviegoer by Walker Percy, you might as well play U2's melancholy classic “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” while watching a National Geographic documentary about Louisiana and looking at some old photos of New Orleans.


This novel is filled with elegant meandering and pompous descriptions. For instance, when he describes his new secretary, he writes: Her back is turned to me, but obliquely, so that I can see the line of her cheek with its whorl of down and the Slavic prominence under the notch of her eye and the quick tender incurve, shortening her face like a little mignon. And when talking about the evening in New Orleans, he says: Bullbats hawk the insects in the warm air next to the pavement. They dive and utter their thrumming skonk-skonk and go sculling up into the bright upper air. There is also a significant amount of nature writing in this novel, like: The world is milk : sky, water, savannah. The thin etherlike water vaporizes, tendrils of fog gather like smoke, a white shaft lies straight as a ruler over the marsh.


It all sounds very pretty. But then he also says things like She has the voluptuous look of roommates left alone. As if he is the ultimate authority on roommates and knows that when left alone, they all look voluptuous. I really don't know how anyone could claim to know that.


So, we have this 29-year-old rich guy with a nice car, drifting around and having rather vague yet somewhat knowing conversations with his cantankerous aunt, his tedious colleagues, or his perky secretary whom he wants to have a relationship with because he is a serial secretary-shagger. There are about 400 minor offscreen characters in this book, and they all get an elaborate paragraph filled with extremely precise and rather dull phraseology. For example, about some old geezer, he writes: There is a flattening of the nosebridge and a softening of the forehead and a giddy light blue amiability about the eyes.


Then there is some stuff that is frankly quite puzzling, like: There comes to me in the ascent a brief annunciatory syllable in the throat stopped in the scrape of a chair as if, having signaled me and repenting of it, it had then to pass itself off as but one of the small day noises of the house.


You know, you could be forgiven for thinking that I didn't have much regard for this novel. It's true that just because someone happens to be tall, white, handsome, heterosexual, wealthy, and male doesn't mean they can't be miserable. But, being unreasonable as I am, it does mostly prevent me from having that much sympathy to spare for them. Honestly, I really didn't care if Binx Bolling had a relationship with his secretary, married his step-cousin, attacked his aunt, ate his uncle, or discovered that his real purpose in life was to make an exact scale model of the Palace of Versailles using only the skeletons of black-bellied whistling ducks found in the Atchafalaya Swamp.

Once a year, a book emerges that simply infuriates you.

Oh, please someone turn this into a movie! It is a beautifully written yet horrible book. I despised every single character within it. I loathe Binx! I detest the "I'm better than you" attitude of the good ole southern boy bullshit, and this book is filled to the brim with that warped logic.

If you have ever been in the south and harassed by some extremely local idiot for no other reason than not being local, this book will shed light on why that is happening.

So just assume that he's having an affair with his suicidal cousin and searching to fill a self-created void known as self-indulgence and live a better life. Because that guy's life is not enviable. Walker Percy is a brilliant writer, but I won't be in a rush to read another word of his work.

The most traditionally existentialist American novel I've ever come across is truly a remarkable piece of work.

It's a sad, yet horny tale that takes place in New Orleans, serving as a transposition of Sartre's Nausea.

While it may have fewer poetic elements, it more than makes up for it with an abundance of irony, which is quite fitting for an American novel.

The book is filled with numerous ridiculously well-written sections, especially those that deal with natural and urban slices-of-life.

The dialogue is deliberately weird at times, adding an extra layer of intrigue to the story.

Moreover, it probably contains more sexual despair than Sartre's original work.

Overall, this novel offers a unique and engaging exploration of existential themes, making it a must-read for fans of the genre.

Immediately after the novel's dedication, we encounter this profound quote from Soren Kierkegaard: "

...the specific character of despair is precisely this: it is unaware of being despair.

" In The Moviegoer, the hero, Binx Bolling, is on the cusp of turning thirty. He is, to put it mildly, indecisive. He has a pattern of falling in love with his secretaries, is bossed around by his aunt and constantly pulled into family affairs. He has complex feelings towards his cousin Kate, who is more fragile than Tennessee Williams's most neurotic female characters.

Yet, Walker Percy has crafted an anti-heroic masterpiece. Binx lives by some rather eccentric principles that seem to lead him nowhere but in circles. There is "the search," "rotation" and "repetition," and numerous mantras he uses to rationalize his existence. For example, on a train ride to Chicago with Kate, he contemplates:

Money is a good counterpoise to beauty. Beauty, the quest of beauty alone, is a whoredom. Ten years ago I pursued beauty and gave no thought to money. I listened to the lovely tunes of Mahler and felt a sickness in my very soul. Now I pursue money and on the whole feel better.

However, he doesn't truly "pursue" money; he's a fortunate stockbroker, and money more or less comes to him easily. Maybe what he really craves is that "sickness in my very soul."

Eventually, towards the end of the book, his aunt gives him a stern talking-to, and he does take some action. But even then, the outcome, like so many things in our lives, is a tenuous truce.

The Moviegoer is a thoroughly unheroic novel with an unheroic narrator. But he is honest, likable, and very much like each and every one of us, hypocrite lecteur.

For a debut novel, The Moviegoer is an unexpected masterpiece whose reputation has only increased over the years. I am eager to explore more of Percy's works.

The predominant feeling upon finishing this book is "what did I just read?" However, at the same time, Percy definitely managed to keep me engaged throughout the entire reading process - I was never once bored.

At times, the book seems so intensely personal, as it delves into the story of Binx and that of New Orleans (yes, Anna, I really NEED to visit someday). You might initially think it lacks universality and an engagement with general truths. But then, Binx, with his philosophical temperament, would make a statement or pose a question that would truly make you stop and think.

There were two ideas in this book that were particularly intriguing to me. Firstly, Binx's interest in the soul of a place. He really connected each movie he watched to the specific place where he watched it. I would guess that many people view movies as a means to escape from the present reality, becoming immersed in the plot and images of the film - and often, that is my own experience as well. But I have definitely experienced how a place itself can influence my thoughts and experiences. It's just that this is something I don't usually encounter in the impersonal space of movie theaters. I'd be curious to know what Binx would think about watching movies in private homes and how it would affect his viewing experience.

Secondly, Kate's self-identification as a religious person, her need to be entirely directed by another, and the requirement that the one directing her not be religious.

On a related note, my two favorite characters were very religious and were even perceived positively by the nonbelieving Binx. Uncle Julian and Linny (?) both had a certain joy that was infectious. And unlike many of the other searching characters in this novel, their faith provided their lives with direction.

Guys, I don't know what else to say. This book was truly an experience. Just read it instead of relying on what I have to say about it.

And for all you Franny and Zooey fans, you might be interested to know that this book was published in the same year and won the National Book Prize, even though it was Percy's debut novel and Salinger had an established reputation as a writer.

A sad story, but it is not such a desperate, heart-rending sadness, but a heavy, numbing sense of meaninglessness. An existential pain that is difficult to describe, but whose weight crushes us, lies on our chests. As if you can still breathe... but actually what for. The hero of Percy is looking for the meaning of All This (that is, life), but he does it blindly, not even knowing himself what this meaning should be. A story in which events and facts fade into the background, because the most important thing is this atmosphere. It is not easy to then shake off this atmosphere.

"Have you noticed that people are only true in times of illness, misfortune or death? I remember that after the accident... people were so kind, honest and conscientious. Everyone pretended that until that moment our life was as true as the moment of the accident itself and that the future must also be true, while in fact we owed our truth only to the death of Lyell. After a few hours, we all merged back into the background and went our own dark ways."

"Christians talk about the horror of sin, but they overlooked something. They constantly say as if everyone were great sinners, while in fact currently a great sin is beyond our strength. In the abyss of our impotence there is very little sin. The culminating moment in the life of a person affected by illness can be the moment when he manages to sin like a true human being. (Look at us, Binx - my wandering friends almost shouted at me - we sin! Yet we are human beings!)"

"Kate slowly shakes her head in admiration. I try to divert her attention from beauty. Beauty is a carrier."

The Moviegoer: Walker Percy's Novel of "If That's All There Is"

Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is--Jerry Leiber & Mike Stoller


  


If Walker Percy's The Moviegoer were to grace the big screen, I'm certain Peggy Lee's "Is That All There Is" would be a perfect fit for the soundtrack. And if Binx Bolling were there to witness it, I wonder if he'd see himself in the story. Binx is a complex character, a member of the well-bred Bolling clan from Felicianas Parish. His life has been filled with events that have made him question the meaning of it all. His father's suicide and his experiences in the Korean War have left him with a sense of unease. After returning home to New Orleans, he drifts through college and into a career as a stockbroker, but he never seems to find true purpose. Instead, he escapes into the world of movies and brief moments of pleasure with his secretaries.

During Mardi Gras, his aunt Emily tries to persuade him to go to medical school, but Binx is torn between this potential new path and his current lifestyle. He also has a complicated relationship with his cousin Kate, who is also searching for something in life. "The Moviegoer" is a powerful and thought-provoking novel that explores themes of loneliness, purpose, and the search for meaning in a modern world. It's a bitter pill to swallow at times, but it's also a masterpiece that has earned its place on many lists of great novels. Whether you're a fan of existentialism or just looking for a good read, "The Moviegoer" is definitely worth checking out. So, the next time you're feeling a bit down on a rainy day Monday, why not pick up this novel and see if it speaks to you? Maybe it'll help you find the answers you've been searching for. And if not, well, there's always that Bloody Mary waiting for you.

Considering the significant amount of time it took me to complete this rather slender book, it should be quite evident that I detected certain不足之处 within it. It was one of those books that I derived a certain degree of enjoyment from during the actual process of reading. However, for reasons unbeknownst to me, once I put it down, I never felt an urge to pick it back up again, which is always an unfortunate circumstance. To be honest, I could tell almost instantaneously that this simply wasn't to my taste. So, I feel a bit guilty for assigning a rating as I was well aware that I wasn't going to like it, yet I decided to persevere until the end regardless.

I've come across numerous descriptions of this book as a sort of quintessential American Existentialist novel, and that's likely a major part of the problem. I've simply never been able to generate much enthusiasm for Existentialist/Absurdist/whatever-minded literature in general, whether it be Camus or Kafka or Beckett or the Russians, etc. (de Beauvoir's fiction might be a possible exception - I greatly enjoyed both of the novels of hers that I've read).

Walker确实在整本书中提出了许多发人深省且有趣的观点。不过，相较于那些更多地对存在本身提出质疑的段落，我更被批判社会结构的段落所吸引。而且，它在结尾处确实有了起色 - 我被宾克斯和专横的埃姆姨妈之间的最后对决深深打动（并且我能痛苦而奇怪地与之产生共鸣）。

坦率地说，虽然我理解书名指的是主人公冷静地观察生活，就好像生活在他面前放映一样的习惯，但我有点失望的是，一本名为《影迷》的书与实际的观影活动关联甚少。我承认我原本期待能有像戈尔·维达尔的《迈拉·布雷金里奇/迈伦》那样为经典电影爱好者准备的神秘的内部笑话。但是，除了威廉·霍尔登早期精彩绝伦的客串出场以及几个巧妙且有启发性的将角色与不太知名的电影明星进行比较之外，在这方面它绝对是一个失败。

所以，是的，归根结底，似乎从一开始这本书就面临着重重困难，不幸的是，事情最终也没有得到解决。就这样吧。

All hail the Biblioracle, for his powers are truly immense.

I am well aware that many of you may not be familiar with this prophet of proper book choices. He pens a column for the Chicago Tribune’s weekly book review supplement.

Besides penning short essays on book-related topics (think of them as more concise versions of the chapters in Anne Fadiman’s Ex Libris), he also invites readers to submit their own five most recent selections. From these, he divines the next book that should grace the list.

It’s a delightful exercise for someone like the Biblioracle (also known as author John Warner), whose mother ran a bookstore during his youth, always ready with suggestions aplenty.

Anyway, I submitted my own list, perhaps cheating just a little by including only the ones I truly adored, and then patiently waited to see what the man with the oracular gift would suggest.

As it turns out, his recommendation, Skippy Dies, was one I had already read and loved, thus confirming his wisdom and far-reaching insights.

When I explained this in a mail, he graciously came up with another one for me. To give him a bit more to work with, I mentioned that I had recently been smitten by Wallace Stegner’s Angle of Repose.

This rather long-winded introduction serves to explain how his choice for me, Walker Percy’s classic, The Moviegoer, now appears on your screen.

I can understand why he chose it after I mentioned Stegner. The writing is of a very high caliber, the characters possess an enticing complexity, and there is a strong sense of place.

John Bickerson “Binx” Bolling is on the cusp of 30. He returned home as a wounded war veteran and has settled into a relatively successful job as a stockbroker in New Orleans.

His passions in life include movies (had you guessed?), sporty cars, quirky family members, and the nicely curved back sides of his young secretaries. But is this enough? His personal “Search” for more indicates that it is not.

From other reviews I have perused, it is evident that I am not the only one to have picked up on a certain existential uneasiness within the pages of this book.

In fact, I would venture to say that the best thing about the book is attempting to discern precisely what Binx is seeking with his search. Percy was deliberately vague. He must have intended for us to speculate.

Although there were tangible elements to it (a possible career change in line with his aptitude for medical research, for instance, or a suitable mate to share his life with, for another), the bulk of his searching was more abstract.

Lines such as this hint at a moral or spiritual dimension:

My mother's family think I have lost my faith and they pray for me to recover it. [...] My father's family think that the world makes sense without God and that anyone but an idiot knows what the good life is and anyone but a scoundrel can lead it.

But it seems to delve even deeper into a psyche that is in conflict with the escapist movies he enjoys, the carnal pleasures that temporarily soothe his soul, and the easy charm he employs for superficial connections.

On the other side of the ledger lies a rather profound Weltschmerz. When he says, “all the friendly and likeable people seem dead to me; only the haters seem alive,” his crisis seems all too real.

In common parlance, I suppose you could say it’s a search for meaning – a way to reconcile his world-weary thoughts with what well-functioning individuals intuit to be the good life.

It was a theme with substantial heft. Had that been all there was, it might have seemed a touch ponderous. Percy may have sensed this, knowing to offer lighter fare as accompaniments.

Occasional humor lent a helping hand. And like many from the South, his language was rich and engaging. Consider, too, that while it is a cliché to refer to a place as another character, has it ever not applied to NOLA?

Speaking of characters, there was a plethora of excellent ones beyond Binx and New Orleans. One was his aunt, a woman of rare insight and persuasion. Another was his aunt’s step-daughter, Kate, who was Binx’s kindred spirit, and perhaps even a love interest.

She’d had some bad luck, though, and the thread she was hanging from was looking rather thin. Such plot as there was had Binx and Kate driving.

If you are at all curious about well-written, character-driven, Southern existentialism, you should give this compact little prize winner a try.

The Biblioracle knew to recommend it to me, and I am grateful that he did. Four very solid stars.

It’s truly a challenge to become overly enthusiastic about a book in which the central character, John Bickerson “Binx” Bolling, expounds on his sense of malaise throughout. Binx, a 29-year-old, resides in a basement apartment in Gentilly, a suburb of New Orleans. His primary pursuits involve working as a stockbroker, frequenting the movies, and chasing after his secretaries for sexual encounters. The writing in the book is indeed robust. However, it chronicles the life of a character who can only experience fleeting moments of satisfaction before sinking back into a quagmire of malaise. He is perpetually in search of meaning in life but discovers precious little. His great-aunt Emily endeavors to guide him in a positive direction, while her stepdaughter, Kate, entertains thoughts of suicide.

Here is an instance of Binx’s internal dialogue: “What is malaise? you ask. The malaise is the pain of loss. The world is lost to you, the world and the people in it, and there remains only you and the world and you no more able to be in the world than Banquo’s ghost.”

What I found appealing:

- The writing is elegant and articulate.

- The sense of place is vivid, making it effortless to envision New Orleans in 1954.

- Emily’s speech towards the end encapsulates the thoughts that have been萦绕 in my mind throughout the book.

What I didn’t care for:

- It is extremely arduous to feel much empathy for Binx due to his self-centeredness, racism, sexism, and his failure to appreciate his privileged life.

- There is scarcely any plot. Although I typically relish character-driven novels, I require at least a modicum of a storyline to hold everything together.

- The story lacks a natural flow and feels like a disjointed collection of memories and musings.

This book was the recipient of the National (US) Book Award for Fiction in 1962. If you have a penchant for philosophical tales about existential angst, you might find it more to your liking than I did. It is well-written but rather gloomy.

The Moviegoer by Walker Percy is an outstanding novel that has rightfully earned its place on two of the most significant lists of the best novels. It appears on The All-TIME 100 Novels and The 100 Best Novels compiled by The Modern Library.

At a second reading, The Moviegoer is truly fabulous, perhaps even more so than the first time. This magnificent work is complex yet avoids unnecessary verbosity. It is meditative and romantic, with a hint of depravity (as the narrator may have an intimate relationship with his cousin). At the same time, it is sophisticated and pure, focusing on the Search that the hero, Jack ‘Binx’ Bolling, is immersed in.

The deeper levels of the narrative explore existentialist themes and are influenced by Soren Kierkegaard. The protagonist's personality and evolution, as well as the events he is involved in, are fascinating. His thinking, angst, and equanimity alternate, and his life has a metaphysical quality that is sometimes superficial.

The novel also contains an incredible mix of erudite references to Tolstoy, Einstein, and fundamental books, along with odd, satirical humor. The pretense that the narrator's important events are connected to movies may seem like an exaggeration, but it could express his loneliness and detachment from reality.

The Moviegoer is an incredible cocktail of highbrow and simple pleasure, with a multitude of themes clearly proposed or just insinuated in the text. It showcases the majesty of the nobility of the South and the decline and fall of aristocracy. Reading this chef d’oeuvre gives one the feeling of belonging to a privileged class of Moviegoers.