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Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
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Tropic of Cancer (1934)

by Henry Miller

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6,27888636 (3.64)158
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English (79)  Spanish (2)  French (2)  Danish (1)  Italian (1)  Dutch (1)  Hebrew (1)  Portuguese (1)  All languages (88)
Showing 1-5 of 79 (next | show all)
And to think that I was annoyed year after year cause Miller's books weren't available on the Amazon Kindle store.

So when I finally got Tropic of Cancer in a different format ... it was too late for me to enjoy it. Too late as I've already read Bukowski, Hemingway, Thompson so I know that there's, if not many for sure, a handful of authors capable of telling more with less, and do so while exploring the dark underbelly of the world. Nah, too late cause this is 2016 and western society is to far along to be left open-mouthed by tales of vanilla sex or abject poverty.

So bored by his interminable descriptions that led nowhere I left this book half finished and I feel no remorse. ( )
  emed0s | Jul 16, 2016 |
A remarkable novel from start to finish on pretty much every level except, as my rating shows, on the development of any memorable character worth remembering or any plot. But that’s a weakness of my rating system, not the novel.

In fact, pretty much the point of the novel is that plot and character are what’s got us into the mess that Miller is trying to draw our attention to; this is about as anarchist as you could get for this genre in the 1930s. To bring defining societal models such as personality traits or storylines into Miller’s work would have been anathema to him.

The novel is one long pursuit of happiness through the ‘freedom’ of doing whatever you want, whenever you want to do it and with whoever happens to be lying around when you get the urge. The expression of this urge through sex was what got Miller’s book banned not only on its initial publication but also on its second
publication in the US thirty years later.

Reading it nearly 100 years after he wrote it though and you’ll not be as shocked as his contemporaries were. What you get is a very lucid picture of interwar bohemian Paris. In fact, if there is a character at all in the novel that is described in any detail, it’s the city itself.

Miller’s philosophy not only manifested itself in a refusal to maintain social boundaries. It also gave rise to his unwillingness to follow literary form. The novel is written in a style unique for the time with unconventional prose that is at time utterly remarkable. There are parts where it doesn’t work out so well but, as is the nature of experiments, you always learn something.

Those who learned went on to become great writers themselves: Burroughs, Kerouac, Easton Ellis. Some, such as Erica Jong, even borrowed Miller wholesale to make up for their inability to innovate style even if they had an original point of view.

There’s no doubt this deserves its place on the 1001 list even if you don’t appreciate the subject matter at times. Its influence has shaped the novel as we know it and, for that, it should be read by anyone interested in the novel as a medium of human expression. ( )
  arukiyomi | Mar 25, 2016 |
I have no idea. I almost want that to be the only thing I say about this book, because really, I just... don't even know. It's so dirty—I don't mean the constant references to sex, though of course there are plenty of those, in the sense that I am pretty sure I will go through the next fifty years of my life without seeing the word "cunt" as many times as I did while reading this book—I mean that it's completely obsessed with everything being festering or fetid or rancid or fermented or seething or feverish, "saturated with perspiration and foul breaths," "the putrid sinks of the world, the charnel house to which the stinking wombs confide their bloody packages of flesh and bone." Everything is lice, maggots, cockroaches, vermin, vomit, blood, drool, urine, farts. Very occasionally there were places where I admired the writing, particularly the last page, which was so surprisingly beautiful given how raunchy the rest of it was. And there was this sentence somewhere in the middle, which was so high-school-English-class I couldn't even believe it:

"Black ocean bleeding and the brooding stars breeding chunks of fresh-swollen flesh while overhead the birds wheeled and out of the hallucinated sky fell the balance with mortar and pestle and the bandaged eyes of justice."

I felt most of the time like the words were slippery, and I forgot them as soon as I read them. There's story, and then all of a sudden it devolves into long, rambling philosophical passages and I'm not gonna lie, I had no idea what was going on half the time. I read it to have read it, and I'm glad I have now. I picked it in the first place because my co-workers posted this Which Banned Book Are You? quiz, and almost no matter what answers I chose, this was the result I got. I still don't know what to think about that.
  mirikayla | Feb 8, 2016 |
After 50 or so pages I was none the wiser as to what the author was trying to say. I have better things to do with my life than read something that seems to be going nowhere fast.

And this is supposed to be a modern classic?
  sundowneruk | Feb 2, 2016 |
Brutally-honest, self-indulgent, and highly original book. A candid look inside this brilliant author's mind and life as a writer roaming Paris. Miller's prose could take you from the reality of being a penniless artist to the depths of his own lustrous desires. This is classic literature at its finest. Miller at its finest--provocative, bold, straight, ingenuous, misogynistic, and original. ( )
  erdmed | Jan 23, 2016 |
Showing 1-5 of 79 (next | show all)
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» Add other authors (63 possible)

Author nameRoleType of authorWork?Status
Henry Millerprimary authorall editionsconfirmed
康雄, 大久保翻訳secondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Gerhardt, RenateEditorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Nin, AnaïsPrefacesecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Saarikoski, PenttiTranslatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Shapiro, KarlIntroductionsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Wagenseil, KurtTranslatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
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Epigraph
These novels will give way, by and by, to diaries or autobiographies--captivating books, if only a man knew how to choose among what he calls his experiences that which is really his experience, and how to record truth truly. ---Ralph Waldo Emerson
Dedication
First words
I am living at the Villa Borghese.
Quotations
I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive. A year ago, six months ago, I thought that I was an artist. I no longer think about it, I am. Everything that was literature has fallen from me. There are no more books to be written, thank God. This then? This is not a book. This is libel, slander, and defamation of character. This is not a book, in the ordinary sense of the word. No, this is a prolonged insult, a gob of spit in the face of Art, a kick in the pants of God, Man, Destiny, Time, Love, Beauty

I believe that today more than ever a book should be sought after even if it has only one great page in it: we must search for fragments, splinters, toenails, anything that has ore in it, anything that is capable of resuscitating the body and soul.
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(Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)
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Book description
Autobiographical novel by Henry Miller, published in France in 1934 and, because of censorship, not published in the United States until 1961. Written in the tradition of Walt Whitman and Henry David Thoreau, it is a monologue about Miller's picaresque life as an impoverished expatriate in France in the early 1930s. The book benefited from favorable early critical response and gained popular notoriety later as a result of obscenity trials. Containing little plot on narrative, Tropic of Cancer is made up of anecdotes, philosophizing, and rambling celebrations of life. Despite his poverty, Miller extols his manner of living, unfettered as it is by moral and social conventions. He lives largely off the resources of his friends. In exuberant and sometimes preposterous passages of unusual sexual frankness, he chronicles numerous encounters with women, including his mysterious wife Mona, as he pursues a fascination with female sexuality. Tropic of Cancer was the first of an autobiographical trilogy, followed by Black Spring (1936) and Tropic of Capricorn (1939). (Review by The Merriam-Webster Encyclopedia of Literature by way of Amazon)
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A stream-of-consciousness story of a poverty-stricken young American, living in Paris.

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