I am just an ordinary man, a moviegoer. I work hard during the day and in my spare time, I either go to the movies alone or with women. I often find myself searching for something more in life. I have long talks with my wise aunt, and she always gives me the advice I need.

This all takes place in the town of Gentilly, where an annual Carnival is about to happen. As I search my soul, I find the story at times humorous, though it does lull a bit here and there. It's a slow burner of a read that might appeal to a certain crowd of moviegoer readers, with a nostalgic charm.

There is some really good writing in this story. For example, the description of life in Gentilly is vivid. I manage a small branch office of my uncle's brokerage firm. I live in the basement apartment of a raised bungalow. I am a model tenant and citizen, with a wallet full of cards. I even have a strongbox for my important documents.
My aunt has been a great help to me. When my father died, she offered to provide my education. I have spent much of the past fifteen years in her house. And then there's Sharon Kincaid, a beautiful girl from Alabama. Her description makes me feel both admiration and a bit of sadness.
Overall, this story has its moments of beauty and sadness, and it makes me think about my own life and my search for something more.

I come away from "The Moviegoer" with very mixed feelings.

Walker Percy was a truly beautiful writer. I found myself reading several passages more than once just to fully savor and enjoy the language. However, I think I may be too old, even at 35, to truly appreciate and establish a deep connection with a novel that is driven almost completely by existential feelings.

It's not that I never personally experience existential dread. In fact, I do, far more often than I would like. But for the most part, I got the reading of these types of novels out of my system as a teenager. (That's when I read Camus's "The Stranger," for instance.) I probably should have read about Binx Bolling's search for meaning in the modern world back then.

What's rather strange about this is that I am now far closer to both Binx's age and his place in life than I was as a teenager. And perhaps that is the problem. Maybe these kinds of books are intended to prepare us for where we will be later in life. Or perhaps they even allow us to say to ourselves, full of self-righteousness, "I'll never be like that!" rather than reflecting our lives as they are today. Maybe it's just too much to bear, hitting us too close to where we currently live.

That all being said, I want to return to my first point: "The Moviegoer" really does possess some wonderful writing. This passage, from after Binx tries unsuccessfully to consummate an affair - the mind was willing, but the flesh wasn't - is just one example:

I never worked so hard in my life, Rory. I had no choice: the alternative was unspeakable. Christians talk about the horror of sin, but they have overlooked something. They keep talking as if everyone were a sinner, when the truth is that nowadays one is hardly up to it. There is very little sin in the depths of the malaise. The highest moment of a malaisian's life can be that moment when he manages to sin like a proper human (Look at us, Binx - my vagabond friends as good as cried out to me - we're sinning! We're succeeding! We're human after all!).

It would be difficult to argue with Binx on that point.

Today, this statue of Walker was placed near the river where we kayak. It is also the annual weekend of his memorial literary fest in St Francisville. I feel truly lucky to live in such a place.

Novelist Walker Percy appears in Covington's Bogue Falaya Park. http://www.nola.com/northshore/index....

Beautiful sentiments by the sculptor - he was actually friends with Percy. https://tammanyfamily.blogspot.com/20...

ORIGINAL POST

Walker Percy lived just about six miles from my house, so it was indeed a great joy to have read this book set in our neck of the woods. It's been far too many years since I read it to comment on the details precisely, but I've got a warning and a bit of trivia that you might never have known.

First, I would caution new readers that the book is a time capsule. To truly appreciate it, one has to take into account how women and minorities were treated half a century ago (or even in Hollywood as recently as last year). Patting a woman's rump would not win any admiration in today's society, but in terms of historical accuracy, you'll get a sense of it here. Just go with the flow. The book is existential and a serious read, but I imagine that at the time it was published, the main character's tendency to hire and fall in love with a series of beautiful secretaries might have provided some 'light' relief amid all the serious introspection.

Now, there are countless reviews of this terrific book out there, all written by readers far more eloquent than I am. But here's the little tidbit that you may not find anywhere else!

For those who have sampled the outstanding books written by Ron Rash, you will recall that the small actions of his characters often convey volumes of unspoken or unwritten words. In one of my favorite novels by Rash, a character walks into the 1920s board room of a timber camp office. It is luxurious, as only a space can be amidst mud-caked shanties and a decimated forest, now cleared for its timber. There is serious money - a fortune in these virgin trees. As one feline predator of a woman, named Serena, strides in, she spies the massive meeting table in the center of the room. It is a solid slab of one single huge tree. Serena leans over and slowly glides her hand over this conquered wood, practically purring.

I was having an author chat with Ron Rash regarding this dark masterpiece of his and pointed out something really unusual to him. By sheer coincidence, I'd been reading The Movie Goer the week before our author dial-in, and lo and behold! When The Movie Goer's Binx walks into an uptown Garden District home, of all the gorgeous and ornate furnishings, he singles out only a beautiful table to admire. Its top is made of one solitary slab of a massive tree. He slides his hand along it, delighting in the luxury. My question to Rash was - did slabbed tables at one time define affluence?

Ron Rash was thrilled to hear my little parallel discovery! It turns out that he did his doctoral dissertation on Walker Percy. That fawning hand-slide in Serena was an homage - an Easter Egg! - to The Movie Goer. Nobody had ever noticed it before!

Now you too are in on the secret. Enjoy the book!

I absolutely adored this book!

So much so that I made the decision to read it twice consecutively. It was around the two-thirds mark that I truly began to understand the unfolding story and its deeper meanings.

What I discovered was a truly hope-filled testament. It shows that even in the face of the most overwhelming despair, great loss, intense relational pain, and the challenges of mental illness, one still has the power to make choices that can lead to a better outcome.

Percy's writing style is simply exquisite. It draws the reader in and holds their attention from beginning to end, making the entire reading experience a truly unforgettable one.

Some days ago, I read in the prologue that Vázquez Montalbán wrote for George Arnaud's novel, El salario del miedo (a prologue with which I have significant disagreements, but that's another topic) that Professor Joan Petit posed the following to his students: "A man is afflicted with metaphysical anguish. Suddenly someone knocks on his door. It's the rent collector. He has no money to pay him. What does his metaphysical anguish turn into? Into concrete anguish."

This could be the case of John B. Bolling, the protagonist and narrator of this story. Let's start by finding out who John Bolling is, also known as Binx.

Binx is an attractive guy, from a family of long-standing lineage and chivalrous principles in New Orleans. He works as a broker and considers himself a model citizen who enjoys doing everything that is expected of him. Without friends, he claims to be happy watching a movie, and it must be true since among his most memorable life experiences is "the time John Wayne killed three uncles with a carbine while falling onto the dusty ground, in Stagecoach."

\\n   “Money is much better than beauty…the search for beauty for its own sake is a form of prostitution. Two years ago I pursued beauty and let money pass by. I listened to the beautiful melodies of Mahler and felt a pain in my soul. Now I pursue money and deep down I feel better.” \\n

Don't be fooled, Binx can be extremely ironic and even cynical. In fact, Binx projects his anguish onto all that people who, mired in their routine, seem not to notice the emptiness of their existence, of their unconscious despair (“… the specific condition of despair is exactly this: not to have consciousness of being in despair, the quote is from Kierkegaard and opens the novel)”; “as alike as peas in a pod”, they only seem real to him when they suffer, when they hate, when they die. This is the context in which Binx feels his “unease”, the sensation of being a stranger far from home whose whereabouts he has forgotten.

\\n   “Unease is the pain that comes with loss. The world has been lost to you, the world and the people who inhabit it, and only you and the world remain, and you are no longer able to be in the world than the ghost of Banquo.” \\n

To counteract the “unease”, Binx resorts to money, which he earns with great ease, to female conquests, which don't last long, and to the cinema. The movies and the behavior of the actors seem more real than the world in front of the screen, in fact, it endows this world with the reality that it seems to lack. In the last case, it manages to temporarily distract him from his restlessness.

\\n   “Here is a phenomenon produced by the cinema, which I call certification. Nowadays, a person who lives in any neighborhood usually doesn't feel that place as a certified place. It's likely that he leads a sad life there, and that the emptiness he feels is something that expands and affects the whole neighborhood. But if that person sees a movie in which his neighborhood appears, the possibility is opened for him to live, at least for a while, as someone who lives in Some Place, and not in Any Place…”\\n

But it's not enough. Binx knows this, so he undertakes what he calls “the search”: to find an individuality that will give him weight, a reason for being. It's not a search for the meaning of life. Even if God appeared to him, Binx tells us, nothing would change; discovering the cure for cancer or composing the most beautiful of symphonies is not good enough for him. His problem is to give himself a real presence independent of the rest, not to be just Any One in Any Place.

\\n   “Am I, with my search, a hundred miles ahead of my compatriots or a hundred miles behind?” \\n

Binx won't be alone in this search, by his side will be his cousin Kate, also suffering, but for very different reasons and in very different ways. If in Binx apathy and coldness prevail, Kate is depressive and has suicidal tendencies (“Suicide is the only thing that keeps me alive”); if Binx searches for individuality, Kate, who doesn't feel up to what is expected of her, longs to be “an ordinary person in any place”, to believe completely in someone and to obey.

\\n   “One night I slipped on the chimney and fell into the fire. Can you believe that it was a relief to feel such intense physical pain? Hell can't be of fire, there are things worse than fire.” \\n

How many times have I thought of Holden Caulfield while reading the novel. Binx experiences a transition that reminded me a lot of the adolescent conflict of the young protagonist of “The Catcher in the Rye”. Also, Binx hates artifice and affectation, so his language is direct, spontaneous, and even childish at times. He is very critical of those hypocritical adults who are everywhere, so lacking in the authenticity and individuality that they claim to cultivate. And perhaps Kate can occupy beside Binx the place that Phoebe had beside Holden.

\\n   “People often ask me what doesn't work in this world… it's an interesting question. However, I have observed that in reality no one wants to listen to an answer” \\n

P.S. The novel won the National Book Award, was selected by Time magazine as one of the hundred best novels of the 20th century and included in the famous canon of Harold Bloom, it didn't deserve the poorly cared for edition of Alfabia.

The "Bookworm" was one of the several stories on a list of books that I wanted to be translated into Greek at some point, having high hopes that this would happen someday, since it is a widely read work that has also been awarded the National Book Award in the US. And indeed, Kastaniotis Editions brought it to Greece in a very nice and meticulous edition. Well, it wasn't exactly as I expected. I found it a bit more existential and "internal" than I thought it would be. However, I liked it. It held me captive until the end, thanks to the wonderful writing, the amazing atmosphere, and the protagonist and narrator of the story, with whom I connected to a great extent (after all, I am the same age as him and also have some common concerns). The truth is that as far as the plot and action of the book are concerned, it does not follow a classic dramatic course. There are no particularly exciting events, climaxes, or tensions (although there are some exceptions here and there). Instead, we have a series of events with a loose coherence, through which we try to understand what interests and troubles our protagonist, Binx Bolling, who is in search of a meaning, a genuine experience, a "something" that is worth holding onto. One of the strong points of the book is definitely the writing, which I found excellent, especially sharp and with a fine sense of humor, generally concise and informative but also with some small lyrical exceptions at various points. Generally, the book is not for all tastes or for all times. Personally, however, I found it very good and interesting, and in fact, it is one of the books that I will read again in the future, perhaps to "catch" even more things that may have escaped me on the first reading. P.S. It's a pity that Terrence Malick (one of my favorite directors) never managed to make the movie.

In many respects, I can clearly understand why this book is regarded as a Southern classic. It masterfully captures a plethora of complex feelings such as displacement, existentialism, and the weight of family expectations. The narrator's experience of life is like that of a moviegoer. He simply observes the events unfolding around him but fails to actively engage. He responds to the world with passivity, almost as if he is detached from the reality that surrounds him.

I appreciate that this review refers to The Moviegoer as "a predecessor of Catcher in the Rye." Indeed, it is a coming-of-age story filled with angst. Which is perhaps the reason why, although I initially liked how the book began, I found myself exasperated by the time it reached its conclusion. I simply lack the tolerance for excessive angst.

Actually, the core of my problem lies in the book's treatment of Kate, the narrator's cousin. She is an absolutely fascinating character, but it is evident that she suffers from mental health issues. In my view, the crucial moment of this novel occurs when the narrator exploits her vulnerability during the trip to Chicago. Their intimacy leads to marriage and (depending on one's interpretation of the ending) the transformation of the narrator into a man. He learns to care for someone else, and with the focus on his wife, he no longer has the luxury of indulging in his skirt-chasing and existential angst. However, while I am glad that he finally found purpose in life, I still believe that Kate was taken advantage of and received the short end of the stick.

Besides Kate and perhaps one other character, I found it extremely difficult to like anyone in this story. But this is a very character-driven book. It takes place over a period of just a little over a week and heavily depends on the environment it描绘s and the interactions between the characters. Overall, it wasn't a bad book. It simply wasn't to my personal taste!

**RIBELLE SENZA MOTIVO**

RIBELLE SENZA MOTIVO

Richard Ford holds The Moviegoer by Walker Percy in high regard, considering it a definitive novel about New Orleans. The South, from where both Percy and Ford hail, might not be seen as an integral part of the US, yet Ford's words make one realize the essence of New Orleans in the book. It展现了 a city without the typical gothic, black, voodoo, or religious trappings. It's a city without a sense of guilt, where business-mindedness prevails over productivity, sociality is prized, and the black minority is serenely and affectionately accepted as servants. Good education, gentility, and class differences are part of its tradition.

The narrator, Jack, is affectionately called Binx by his relatives and friends. He's about to turn thirty and often goes to the movies. But it's not because he prefers the celluloid world to the real one. His ideal is complex, as seen in his thoughts about women. He seems to know how to enjoy life, yet he's also restless and asks questions that often remain unanswered. He calls this aspect of existence "the Search," as if he's looking for clues to define his perception of the world.

The book is elusive and hard to define. Summarizing the plot is a challenge as it seems to lack a framework and lives mainly through micro-events, moments, and episodes. Maybe, given the epigraph from Kierkegaard, it could be called an existentialist novel, but with a light touch. The year after its release in 1962, it won the National Book Award, beating out tough competition. Terence Malick acquired the rights but abandoned the project after Hurricane Katrina, doubting the existence of the New Orleans in the book.

This is one of those novels that I firmly believe everyone should take the time to read.

I don't hold the expectation that every single person will fall in love with it, but it is indeed interesting to a remarkable degree. It has the power to spark lively discussions and encourage further deep thought.

The story is set in the American South and revolves around the theme of redemption.

It is truly one of my most cherished works within the realm of American literature.

The vivid描绘 of the southern setting and the complex characters add depth and authenticity to the narrative.

The exploration of redemption is both poignant and thought-provoking, making the reader reflect on the nature of forgiveness and the possibility of transformation.

Overall, this novel is a must-read for anyone interested in American literature or in stories that have the ability to touch the heart and stimulate the mind.

A well-written book, unfortunately, to which I could not connect.

I liked the main character, John (Binx) Bolling, but from a distance. Logically, I appreciated his unique sensitivity, which made him feel the alienation of others (and react to it with understanding and compassion), their state of living death (without intense emotions and without ideals), which made him feel extremely scared of lethargy (apathy) and even suffocated by the daily routine. One might say that such a character is destined for great deeds and will go far... Or not?

In short, the novel reminded me, in many respects, of the famous The Catcher in the Rye. But, just like in the case of Salinger's book, I reached the end completely emotionally uninvolved and with a slight feeling that I had wasted my time reading it. Well, the time was not exactly wasted, I encountered some interesting ideas and, at times, a certain poetry. However, I'm afraid that existentialist concerns are not for me :).

Fifty-one years ago.

That's an incredibly long time ago, yet it feels like just yesterday when I think I read The Moviegoer for the very first time.

Over the years, I have read and admired most of everything else that he wrote.

Rereading this novel, which I had mostly forgotten, I was able to recognize elements that he used in other novels, elements that were used here for the very first time.

For example, there is a flickering light that indicates reality, and it is especially appropriate to the movie theme.

And Percy always wrote richly and descriptively about the South.

His character Binx Bolling wonders at the banality of life that others don't seem to notice.

He is convinced that movies give reality to life by elevating it above the banality.

Movie stars transform existence and make it special.

Though all of Binx's friends suffer from a surrender to the ordinary, he never tires of trying to show them how to overcome it.

As he explains it to himself, the world is sometimes lost to him, but movies restore it and form his shield against despair and dislocation.

Though the novel is concerned with a sense of decay and angst amidst the decay, there are still some delights.

I loved how he reminded me of what the South was like 50 years ago, the feel of country highways, how in the night bugs would fly into a screen door with a tick, and how the air and light look on windy, sunny days on the Gulf.

In the end, Binx blinks through the despair to find loveliness and hope, and the reader does too.

This novel turned out to be quite different from what I had anticipated, despite the reviews I had perused before picking up the book.

It is an extremely introspective work that has very little to do objectively with the world of film. However, it has a great deal to do with movies in a more profound sense. One quote near the end seemed to encapsulate that conundrum for me. As Binx describes a man he met on the bus returning to New Orleans, a man he has labeled "the romantic", he says, "He is a moviegoer, though of course he does not go to movies."

For me, this quote summed up Binx and his position within his family and his home city. Binx is a man constantly in search of a role, experimenting with new roles each day, trying them on for size with new young women, family members, and even himself. Some roles feel almost genuine (such as with the children, Lonnie), some seem completely unrealistic at times (like with his mother), and some are a combination of both (as with Kate).

I found myself increasingly liking this book as I delved deeper into it. At first, I questioned, "Why all the positive remarks about it?" But then I began to enjoy the story, the mood, the wonderful sense of place, and even the disjointed conversations.

In the end, my rating is a solid 4 stars without hesitation.