The protagonist Jack is in his late twenties, a well-paid stockbroker who always flirts with his changing secretaries. It's a pleasant, idle life; however, he can't fully embrace it because he is seeking something - it's not exactly describable what, but it can't be found in this lifestyle that hardly changes throughout the course of the novel. Generally, not much happens, except for the psychological problems of Kate, who grew up in the same household as Jack. Despite financial security, she can't find happiness.

The climax of the book comes towards the very end when, after a suicide attempt, Kate travels with Jack to a business conference in Chicago without the worried family knowing. The trust of Jack's mentor figure, his aunt Emily, is deeply shaken, but in the epilogue, the waves calm down. However, Jack is still on the search.

At the beginning, some dialogues are still clumsily constructed. Events are cut short and characters are mentioned that the readers don't know; this improves towards the end. Also, the inserted philosophical passages seem too strained, and some content digressions stand completely senseless as cumbersome monoliths in the plot plane.

In the second half, however, the book gains in quality, acquires more drive, achieves a magnificent plasticity in the description of the southern swamps and New Orleans, and falls into a kind of elegiac tone, so that at the end one can sense the "search" of the protagonist much more through the stylistic level than through the level of the action.

It is a specific emptiness that occurs despite the fullness of the environment or the comfort of the described buildings, which Percy captures excellently.

Incidentally, one can also subtly sense what the just abolished racial segregation still entails in terms of aftereffects, because the Blacks always remain in the background, on the periphery, are never actors, but always reactors. This exclusion becomes particularly clear in a statement by Emily, who vents her anger at Jack after the Chicago trip, but also falls into a praise of a mindset of ancient quality (noble simplicity, quiet greatness) that in her opinion the ancestors of the family still possessed. That this carefree life in mercy and magnanimity was only possible through the exploitation of the Blacks, she ignores - significantly, that her housekeeper is a Black.

If one omits the first hundred pages, it is a very good book.

Binx Bolling is a man desperately in search of meaning in his life.

His daily routine seems rather empty; he frequently goes to the movies and engages in sexual encounters with a succession of vacuous young women who work as secretaries in his office.

He gives the impression of not belonging to anything or anyone. However, as the story progresses, we learn that he actually has a family, and his life is far from being unentangled; in fact, it may be overly complicated.

There are numerous people around him who are eager to tell him who he is or should be, but very few who truly understand him or wish to see him for who he really is.

Then there is his cousin Kate (although she is not really his cousin as his aunt is only her stepmother). Like Binx, Kate is also a searcher, struggling to find her way in life.

The way this story unfolds is truly captivating, especially the psychological exploration of the characters as the plot develops.

Binx's state of confusion has its roots in his experiences. He has survived the trauma of the Korean War and has been unable to pick up the pieces of his life and return to the normalcy of everyday existence.

Kate, too, has endured a traumatic event that has left her running from the loss of her planned future and the sense of pointlessness in the life that remains.

Aunt Emily serves as a foil to Binx and Kate. She is certain that she knows what life is all about and has all the answers. She seems unable to understand why these young people don't simply follow her instructions and conform.

Percy has created extremely believable characters and placed them in a very realistic world.

This is a world marked by class distinctions, pre-determined futures, and family expectations.

Moreover, his portrayal of the South feels incredibly authentic. It is evident that he has a deep understanding of his subject matter.

He masterfully captures the essence of New Orleans and the pressures associated with a Southern identity.

Percy's novel won the National Book Award, and it's not hard to see why.

There is a great deal happening beneath the surface.

Many of us can probably relate to the desire to escape into the safety of a movie screen, where at least the possibility of a happily-ever-after exists.

The problem, however, is that such an escape is only temporary. When we leave the theater, we are faced with the reality of life once again.

What Binx Bolling discovers is that there are no ordinary lives.

Instead, all the meaning we need or receive may be found in the most ordinary of things, days, and the people who have the ability to look beyond our exterior and catch a glimpse of our soul.

I LOVED it!

This book truly seems to have a special connection with me on some level. It is filled with so much content that it feels like an idea-driven piece, yet not in an impersonal or abstract manner. What makes it remarkable is the sense of connection it evokes within me.

Although I may not fully understand a great deal of it, I still feel its essence. There were numerous passages that I was simply compelled to copy and save in a readily accessible place so that I could read them over and over again, both for the beautiful language and the profound ideas they convey.

Moreover, parts of it were incredibly funny! However, there is one thing that eluded me. I probably just overlooked it somewhere, but who is Rory? Throughout the book, the author seems to be addressing this Rory character.

I have many more questions, and I had the urge to re-read it immediately after finishing. But perhaps it is a wise idea to wait and let it sink in first.

How do you like your existentialism served?

1.) Russian winter style with a heaping helping of profound alienation, mental illness and unintentional celibacy?

2.) Mardi Gras style with a demitasse of alienation interrupted periodically by intervals of skirt chasing and elementary film studies?

Don't answer yet. Consider the plot of this novel, Walker Percy's first and most famous and well-regarded: Binx Bolling is a stockbroker on the cusp of turning 30 in late 1950's New Orleans. He comes from a well-to-do local family who keeps expecting great things from him. Binx, however, is a chronic and near affectless underachiever who coasts through life watching films, pursuing women, and contemplating the purpose of existence with some as-yet undiagnosed form of intellectual OCD. He wanders around in the week before Mardi Gras trying to score with his new secretary and cheer up his suicidal step-cousin, Kate. And that's pretty much it.

Look, I'm not one of those maroons who went to Tree of Life and demanded their money back. I get it. This novel is about ideas, not plot or finely observed characterizations. But criminy, even Notes from Underground had a storyline and human-like characters once you get past the Unibomber manifesto in part one. There really isn't much going on in this story, just Binx wandering around Vieux Carre talking to people he doesn't care much about, with the exception of Kate who I didn't care much about. Sure, I'm being a bit reductive here but not that much I promise you.

Oddly enough, what this book did have going for it was gorgeous prose that begged at times to be re-read. Here is a passage I picked at random:

Here is Chicago. Now, exactly as twenty five years ago, the buildings are heavy and squarish and set down far apart and at random like monuments on a great windy plain. And the Lake. The Lake in New Orleans is a backwater glimmering away in a pleasant lowland. Not here. Here the Lake is the North itself: a perilous place from which the spirit winds come pouring forth all roused up and crying out alarm.

The wind and the space-they are the genie-soul. Son of a bitch, how can I think about variable endowments, feeling the genie-soul of Chicago perched on my shoulder?

I know, right? Genie-soul is a lot better way to describe the midwestern winter than, \\"This wind is raping my eyeballs.\\"

Also, the elephant in the room is Percy's Catholicism and how this book has some kind of religious message to impart. For the record, neither myself nor my book club could parse this out and more to the point, I don't give a shit about spiritual subtext. It's kind of like seeing the image of the Blessed Mother on your toast points. If you want to see it, you will.

Bottom line, The Moviegoer < the sum of its parts. It's a novel that struggles to engage on a narrative level, despite its beautiful language and interesting ideas. While the prose is a delight to read, the lack of a compelling plot and fully developed characters makes it a somewhat disappointing read overall. However, for those who are interested in exploring existential themes and the human condition, it may still have some value. Just don't expect a thrilling page-turner.

I didn't have any affection for this book.

The main character comes across as emotionally unresponsive and difficult to empathize with. The conversations among the characters lack clarity, making it hard to understand their true intentions.

There is no distinct plot line to drive the story forward, and the ending feels sudden and incomplete.

While some of the passages are beautifully written, they are overshadowed by the narrator's long-winded and aimless musings.

The narrator seems to impose motives and desires on the people around him that have no connection to their actual words or actions.

Moreover, he is constantly ruminating on philosophical ideas instead of engaging with the world.

All in all, this makes for a long, perplexing, and ultimately dissatisfying reading experience.

Is the war over yet?

Jack Bolling is a soldier who hails from a long line of soldiers. He served in Korea, while his father met his demise in World War II. Other relatives of his served in World War I, and some even in the Civil War. Among them all, the fiercest warrior is Jack's Aunt Emily. She is a single woman, upholding Southern Tradition, and all she has to rely on is Jack. Sadly, Jack is still engaged in a war within his mind and heart. Even as he manages to make money, pursue women, and of course, frequent movie theaters, he remains damaged. He can truly relate only to others who are just as damaged, such as his severely handicapped younger brother and his step cousin (his Aunt Emily's stepdaughter) Kate.

"The Moviegoer" is exquisitely written, saturated with Louisiana traditions and places. The book is not so much a source of enjoyment as it is a humbling experience. Watching Percy's troubled characters contort and turn, attempting to figure out how to live with their pain, is not a pleasant sight. However, it is rewarding and perhaps even enlightening. It makes the reader reflect on the human condition and the power of perseverance in the face of adversity.

I wasn't entirely certain about my initial feelings towards this book when I first began reading it. However, as I turned the final page, I found myself completely enamored with it to the extent that I knew it had to be placed on my re-read shelf.

This remarkable book encompasses a wealth of themes within its 240 pages. It delves into the profound realms of family love and responsibility, shedding light on the complex class systems prevalent in the south. Additionally, it explores the subtleties of racism, the alternating emotions of despair and elation, and the universal search for meaning in one's life.

Moreover, there are numerous moments of wisdom and those "AHA" realizations for the reader, all beautifully expressed in elegant prose. Two of my absolute favorite sentences from the book are: "Life goes on and on we go." and "Ours is the only civilization in history which has enshrined mediocrity as it's national ideal. True, our moral fiber is rotten. Our national character stinks to high heaven. But we are kinder than ever."

This was my very first encounter with a Walker Percy novel, and now I am compelled to add him to "the list" of authors whose works I will eagerly explore further.

Nothing can be more of a downer to reading than a boring book. I can't recall the precise day when I began this book, but it seems like an eternity ago. For a book of just over 200 pages, it felt as if it were a 1000-page tome, dragging on and on. The main character, Binx Bolling (who in the world names their child Binx?), is a prosperous businessman. He enjoys pursuing women and watching movies, yet he can't seem to discover a purpose in his life. In the book, there are approximately five interesting events, six entertaining conversations, and three unique ideas. The rest is just dull rambling inside Binx's head. The title of the book suggests that Binx watches a great many movies, but in reality, I think he watches maybe three or four. I would recommend skipping this book and going to see a movie instead.

Binx Bolling.

He is truly the most uninteresting man in existence. He discovers that all he requires can be found within the confines of a movie theater. The act of driving cars only instills in him a sense of unease and discomfort. He bears the scars of war, yet he chooses not to share them with others.

He awakens 'in the grip of everydayness', which he perceives as the enemy, and from which there seems to be no escape. Although he doesn't always frequent the movies, when he does, he goes as a simple moviegoer.

He remains the most boring man alive, trapped in his own mundane world, with his secrets and his lack of excitement. His life seems to be a continuous cycle of monotony, with the movie theater being his only source of brief respite.

Despite his flaws and his uneventful life, there is something strangely captivating about Binx Bolling, perhaps because he represents the ordinary in a world that often seems to be filled with chaos and excitement.

This is an extremely disappointing book.

It lacks any semblance of a coherent plot. There is no build-up, no tension, and worst of all, no climax.

The story just meanders along aimlessly, leaving the reader completely confused and unengaged.

It's truly baffling how such a book could be published.

The author seems to have no idea how to structure a story or create any kind of emotional impact.

It's a waste of time and money, and I would not recommend it to anyone.

Avoid this shitty book at all costs!

This book has daunted me ever since I bought it 20+ years ago.

Somehow, the copy has moved with me across three continents and uncounted house moves.

And yet, it remains an exceedingly strange novel.

I am not sure I have either the wit or the words to grapple with it.

There’s a great deal of mid-century existentialist burble, which dates it somewhat.

But for all that, the protagonist’s Search for some truer truth beyond mere materialism and southern gentility comes across as quite real.

Was Binx Bolling then the Louisiana cousin of Camus’ Meursault?

Certainly, you don’t find a lot of war-veterans-turned-successful-brokers as the lead character in a literary novel.

The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit, anyone?

Another less than wholly satisfactory mid-century reading experience, now that I think of it.

On then to further adventures in the South…

Penn Warren or Kennedy Toole? Who should it be?

PS That weekend sojourn in the Bayou is as memorable an evocation of the southern swamps as you’ll find.

The space, the light, the water, the life… Percy was not an inconsiderable stylist.

I liked the book, but I preferred The Last Gentleman.

What made it even more remarkable was that the author actually made a reference to the place where I live.

When this book was written, my hometown was just a tiny dot on the map.

It was quite astonishing to see that my little corner of the world was mentioned in a work of literature.

This connection added an extra layer of interest and personal touch to my reading experience.

I found myself more engaged with the story, imagining the events taking place in a familiar setting.

It made me appreciate the author's attention to detail and his ability to bring different locations to life within the pages of a book.

Overall, my preference for The Last Gentleman was enhanced by this unexpected reference to my hometown.