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robert_bethencourt's review
challenging
dark
funny
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
dana7878's review
2.0
Dnf at 50%... I got further into this absolutely bleak fever dream than I expected to. Every once in a while, Miller would indulge me with some good rhythmic grimey descriptions of the city- but there were Copious amounts of rambling and squalor to wade through in exchange. Think I got the gist after 160 pages. I definitely had to cognitively dissociate from the content to read this book at all, but I guess that's to be expected given the uproar it caused. At least now I know how lucky I am to not be living in Paris in the 30s.
vincentblackshadow's review
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
2.0
Content Warnings
Minor: Misogyny, Domestic abuse, Antisemitism, Sexual violence, Sexism, Excrement, Physical abuse, Racial slurs, and Pregnancy
savaging's review
3.0
Once I thought that to be human was the highest aim a man could have, but I see now that it was meant to destroy me. Today I am proud to say that I am inhuman, that I belong not to men and governments, that I have nothing to do with creeds and principles. I have nothing to do with the creaking machinery of humanity -- I belong to the earth! I say that lying on my pillow and I can feel the horns sprouting from my temples.
Is this book a brilliant explosion of the Id, or is it the sophomoric rant of a moody, misogynist, racist frat boy?
It's an ideological crisis to me that I can't safely distinguish the two in Miller. Is this book the best thing or the worst? I write in pain on my note pad: WHAT IF THE ID IS JUST A FRAT BOY?
George Orwell said about Miller: "he is a completely negative, unconstructive, amoral writer, a mere Jonah, a passive acceptor of evil, a sort of Whitman among the corpses." And I can take him like this, can appreciate his unashamed confessions of his shameful behavior. Only I get embarrassed, too. There's a weird tone of pride behind all the woman-hating and anti-semitism. The same kind of pride that feeds Millers overblown, grandiose statements: If a Man -- (always Man) -- were to ever tell the truth inside him THE WORLD WOULD EXPLODE!!!
Well, no, Henry. We'd all still be here and it might not even make a great book.
There are some jarring shifts in tone. He's neck-deep in the swirling mire of existence and then suddenly moves to describing his life in past-tense, it dries up, an old man drawling about his glory days, a travelogue.
All the same, I'll be returning to his central goal:
Ideas have to be wedded to action; if there is no sex, no vitality in them, there is no action. Ideas cannot exist alone in the vacuum of the mind. Ideas are related to living: liver ideas, kidney ideas, interstitial ideas, etc.
skylergrace's review
dark
mysterious
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
venusverti's review against another edition
challenging
dark
lighthearted
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.5
I picked up Tropic of Cancer wanting to get in a quick read for the start of May - and for that, I applaud Miller, it was quick alright! The language and narrative voice was easy to follow, and at times I admit I was quite captivated. Particularly in the beginning, I wanted to just keep going! But I can't say that that happened for very long. Miller would hook me for a good page or two, and then it would plateau or plummet completely, and I'm sorry Miller, but that's when the skimming began (oops!). Either chapters ran too long, were full of too much nonsense or I was getting fed up learning another prostitute's name. At times, the poetic nature of Miller was where I enjoyed it most - those vivid, yet depressing, images of life, of starting over. His longings for Mona. But all of this was entwined with slightly too many things I just didn't care about. Bored of walks by the Seine. Maybe I just didn't care enough about Henry to care what was happening to him, like he didn't really care about anybody else. Some interesting observations of an "artist", of their human condition, at least. How differently we all experience it. Miller says the "artists" needs loneliness - the feeling, as opposed to the state of being alone. But I felt no real feeling by the end of Tropic of Cancer, I did not even feel Henry had the ability to feel. Henry was simply alone and detached, filling his void with sex and bodies and small friendships. Other than feeling pity for Henry, I got no strong feelings from this read, except for a paragraph half way through that stirred something sad within me. That stirred those deep feelings of wonder for someone. That hit home, too closely for now. But for that, Miller kept his extra half star.
toddie's review
3.0
i didnt actually finish this book so im kind of cheating but man this guy is the WORST i really just wasnt interested in reading this memoir from the biggest most punchable dickwad in the whole world even if it was interesting really good way to understand what its like in an assholes brain
efh2301's review
i wish men would shut the fuck up if they don't have anything to say.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Antisemitism