Portnoy's Complaint (1969)

I have heard Philip Roth's name bandied about for years, as one of America's literary giants, along with the likes of Saul Bellow, and Norman Mailer. Portnoy's Complaint happened to catch my eye from the bookshelves recently, and I decided to give it a try.

I found that many people from my generation had read Portnoy in their younger years, mainly due the prevalence of sex in the book. It does contain the famous (infamous?) passage of young Alex Portnoy, using a piece of liver for a sex toy, and then later sitting down with his family to eat that same piece of liver for dinner. Cultural experts cite this seminal moment in literature as a pre-cursor to the pie scene in the film "American Pie."

The premise of Portnoy's Complaint is right in the title; it is a 274 page rant by Alex Portnoy to his psycho-analyst. Portnoy, being Jewish, has much to say about his upbringing, and particularly his mother. He both rejects his Jewish culture, chasing after blond shiksas; and yearns to once again be part of the youth he remembers among his family, in a predominately Jewish neighborhood.

I was immediately struck by the quality of Roth's writing in this early work, Portnoy's Complaint being his fourth novel. The voice of Alex Portnoy — which I'm sure is a thinly disguised version of Roth himself — is intense and intelligent, but also misogynistic, and self-centered. He is not a likeable character by any means, but his tale is told with biting humor, and sarcastic wit. It's quite compelling even though I couldn't identify culturally with the character of Alex Portnoy. I did find though that I had to read the book in small doses. A little bit of Alex Portnoy's complaint goes a long way. ( )

I remember reading this and mildly enjoying it. I haven't read any of his later work, although since several are in the 1000 Novels list I probably will sooner or later. ( )

I've been reading a lot of smut lately. It's not because I'm a horndog, though! No wait, yes it is. That's the reason. So I figured I'd check this out, because I heard it was dirty, and it is, but it is not sexy. Not...at...all...sexy.

There's an Onion article from...holy shit, fifteen years ago! I feel old...that I've always remembered: Chinese Laundry Owner Blasted For Reinforcing Negative Ethnic Stereotypes. It's a clever piece. I was reminded of it once again while reading Portnoy's Complaint: now I know where all those stereotypes of guilting, overprotective Jewish mothers come from. They come from this. I found it very distasteful. ( )

First half is funny but once Portnoy begins to discuss his current goings-on the writing gets a bit self-conscious and strained. Portnoy himself is too broad to be interesting. Certain aspects of the book date it considerably, which isn't necessarily bad unless, like me, you hate the 60s. Enjoyable overall. ( )

http://andalittlewine.blogspot.com/2012/12/book-review-portnoys-complaint-by.htm...

I don't remember when I acquired my water damaged first edition of Philip Roth's Portnoy's Complaint. Just like I don't remember what made this the year of Philip Roth for me: first The Humbling, then Goodbye, Columbus. Both things just sort of happened (as Joe Poz recently pointed out, Roth books have a way of reproducing while you sleep).

The thing about memory is this: it shapes us, even if we don't understand how. And that's Portnoy's Complaint: down memory lane we stroll, privileged to (and trapped by) Portnoy's novel length monologue to his shrink.

Laugh out loud funny, I wouldn't say it's Roth at his best, but I can see how it kicked up a lifetime worth of controversy.

How much do you think about sex? Spend a day thinking about it, tracking the thoughts that flicker through your mind about the people you see or remember or imagine.

Portnoy's monologue is stand-up comedian gold, an X-rated version of Billy Cosby's Fat Albert. Lessons are learned: hide your desires from the world, from the hypocrites who inhabit it, become a hypocrite and rule it.

I was surprised how much I enjoyed Portnoy's Complaint. I'm hardly squeamish, but I don't necessarily enjoy most sex-humor. I certainly didn't love the bits of Lost Girls that I've read despite the enticing review Neil Gaiman gives it, and most sex scenes in movies make me laugh (I'm thinking of you, Watchmen with the full Leonard Cohen Hallelujah as background music). Maybe there's something in the difference between reading and seeing that let's the humor last longer. ( )