Walker Percy (1916–1990)

Since the only Walker Percy novel I'd read previous to this one was "The Moviegoer," this came as sort of a surprise. "Love in the Ruins" is a political and religious satire set in the near future that focuses on Tom More, a doctor, inventor, bad Catholic, rum toddy enthusiast, and all-around sybarite. Tom himself is a likable character, and his efforts at navigating the shoals of the extreme political movements that have overcome the United States as he deals with personal tragedy will show more likely make him a sympathetic figure to many readers. But the real attraction of the book is its setting, which reflects both the natural beauty of the American South -- it's described as a lush, fertile barely controlled jungle -- and its take on our political future, which is both very much of its time (1971) and eerily prescient. While some of the aspects of the political scene that Percy presents here proved pretty transitory (love children! an armed, militant, separatist Black Power movement!) his description of partisans separated by culture and politics living side by side seems a lot like the modern United States. Either things haven't changed all that much from the early seventies or Percy was an unusually acute political and cultural oracle.

But considering that "The Moviegoer" was a pretty clear descendant of European existentialist novels, what really surprised me about "Love in the Ruins" was its unbridled sensuality: Dr. Tom More loves good-looking women with all his being, and Percy writes them very skillfully. Meanwhile, the forest runs wild: vines burst through the concrete as guerrillas and hippies take over the nearby swamp. This might be a Southern Catholic's response to the more ascetic aspects American Protestantism, though the conflation of consumer culture, nationalism, and religion also comes in for some criticism, too. But the book's also more playful and more lively than "The Moviegoer" was: there are times when you might be forgiven for thinking that you were reading a thriller of some sort.

I'm a bit less attuned to Percy's religious themes than I probably should be: I'm an even worse Catholic than Dr. More. But I think there's also, via a technological metaphor, an attempt here to reconcile humankind's base and lofty desires, as the main character fairly bursts with both. And maybe a plea, of some sort, for forgiveness -- from God, for each other, and for ourselves. Surprisingly enjoyable and recommended. show less

Percy creates a quasi-absurd scenario reminiscent of Pynchon, Robbins, or Brautigan, and uses it to explore modern anxiety and existential crisis through the lens of an educated twenty-something Southern boy. Action follows Williston Bibb Barrett as he works his way back home, equally pushed by internal dissatisfaction and pulled by the departure of a Southern girl he followed out of Central Park. Percy's depiction of modern Southern culture is especially successful in countering stereotypes show more even as his focus is upon the broader American malaise of the 1960s.

Percy's writing is assured and deceptive in its simplicity, his observations recognisably, startlingly accurate (in the manner of sudden recognition) in depicting different mannerisms typical of Northern and Southern adults, interactions between black and white Americans, and between generations. These observations are most striking as they manifest in how people behave, their small mannerisms even more than their intended actions, and in their dialogue and conversation. Interestingly, though his characters are well-written whether man or woman, I didn't notice a particular focus on gender differences.

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Percy alludes to that synthesis of Christian myth presented in his own essay, "The Message in the Bottle" [276]. In the novel, the allegory is deliberately obscure, part of Sutter's diary entries addressed to his sister and unorthodox nun, Val. Interesting that Percy links his take on myth with Sutter, who is not particularly sympathetic to either other characters in the novel or to the reader. Given the essay, it's not surprising so much that Percy incorporates a Christian ethics to guide his story (The Last Gentleman is very much a Christian novel if a covert one) as that the imagery and wording is so explicit and direct.

Will evidently has an ephiphany at the end, and poses a question to Sutton before they drive off together. It's not hidden from Will, but to the reader, and was foreshadowed by the lessening (disappearance?) of Will's fugue states. So what was Will's question? Does it matter what answer Sutton gave him? Perhaps taken up in the sequel, but I suspect it's to be worked out by the reader: part of the theological-philosophical ponderings caught up in the 2 characters throughout the novel.

Percy uses the phrase "a wrinkle in time" [241], possibly a reference to L'Engle's 1963 novel (also Christian allegory) but conceivably used for itself, it's very much the imaginative phrasing he uses throughout the book. show less

This book was placed on my To Read list so long ago that I no longer remember why it was added. The Last Gentleman follows displaced southerner Williston Bibb Barrett from New York City to Alabama to New Mexico as he falls in with a southern family loosely connected to his own southern roots. Barrett suffers from a "nervous condition" and experiences occasional losses of memory, deja vu, and "fugue states," accompanied by an overwhelming feeling that he is lost, or "dislocated" from the rest show more of the world. The overarching theme of Walker Percy's second novel appears to be what I have seen described elsewhere as Christian Existentialism, as Barrett's relationships throughout his physical journey south coincide with a personal quest for identity and purpose. Through Percy's characters, the reader is introduced to his philosophical quandaries regarding American and Southern culture, religion, faith, morality, identity, and death, but does so without preaching a gospel or pretending to have answers to any of the important questions. In fact, Percy might even admit to not knowing all of the questions. Definitely not a casual read, but a good read nonetheless. show less

With an opening paragraph that explodes on the page with references to Christendom, Western civilization, and Dante, I immediately knew that this book was going to be good if not great. However I was thrown off a bit by the structure in which the first part was set on July Fourth and then went back to July 1st in the second part, but I got my bearings and began to enjoy the satire and the chaos of the world of the mid-80s in the United States where everything was falling apart around show more Paradise Estates, "an oasis of concord in a troubled land."

The protagonist is Dr. Thomas More (yes, namesake of the famous St. Thomas More) a heavy-drinking psychiatrist who has had his share of personal tragedy. He comments, "It is my misfortune---and blessing---that I suffer from both liberal and conservative complaints, e.g., both morning terror and large-bowel disorders, excessive abstraction and unseasonable rages, alternating impotence and satyriasis. So that at one and the same time I have great sympathy for my patients and lead a fairly miserable life."(p 20)

Tom hopes to turn his fortunes around with his invention, the lapsometer, with which he "can measure the index of life, life in death and death in life" --- This being a very scientific way to measure a sort of relative spirituality. The plot centers around his attempts to make progress with his invention while maintaining a semblance of normality, a vigorous love life, and interactions with a variety of interesting characters that include a Jewish atheist and a mephistopheles-like character who manages to persuade Tom to sign away his invention (i.e. his soul).

Through it all he maintains his own Catholic faith, while at the same time claiming, somewhat reasonably, to be a "bad" Catholic. At the same time he serves his fellow man in his role as a doctor while dealing with attacks from "Bantu" warriors and the impending collapse of society. The delight of the book comes from the savage satire and the potential for change in the life of Dr. Tom.

Seldom have I read a book that brings to mind my personal history; Love in the Ruins is one of those books. Written in the early 1970s, but set in a not too distant future of the mid 80s it is filled with references that in lesser books would merely seem out of date and discourage the reader. Yet Percy has captured the time and place with specific cultural entities like Howard Johnson's and others. I found this intriguing and fitting in a way that made the deterioration of society in the story more believable. He succeeds (certainly not intentionally) in mirroring the ongoing chaos in our own contemporary world. Ultimately, this is a novel, as the title suggests, about ruin, but also love, and perhaps therein a glimmer of hope---read it and find out. show less