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A review by david_rhee
Henderson the Rain King by Saul Bellow
1.0
Saul Bellow's use of blustery and abrasive protagonists in a coarse and boorish style (a surprising departure from what I loved in The Victim and The Adventures of Augie March) disappointed me greatly in Seize the Day and Henderson the Rain King. In the former title, I could stomach it because it is shorter and it gave the impression of being a brief aberration among his body of work. Unfortunately, the seed planted in Seize the Day must have germinated fully in Henderson and it's an awfully ugly growth.
Have you ever noticed some people who possess detestable character traits which others are usually in agreement in frowning upon but for some inexplicable reason in these people everyone around them instead finds those same traits excusable and even endearing? "Oh, he's hopelessly stupid, but it's good for laughs." "Yes, he's loud and talks too much but you've just got to understand him." Well, that's Henderson. Loud, never shuts up, always whining about not getting anything right yet somehow is supremely confident and rushes into outlandish situations certain of his own imminent success. He stomps forward and through people fully expecting everyone to make way, loves to reflect but his trap keeps flapping. His soul yearns for something but he has simply taken what he wants all his life. I don't get it. I suspect there isn't much to get. Even if there is, I don't really want to try anymore.
Maybe this book will appeal to you. I don't know. A lot of readers seem to have enjoyed following this sweaty fatty while he looks for his spirit-animal. I don't really like to criticize a book so harshly. I never thought I'd give a negative review for a Saul Bellow novel in a million years. Maybe it's my mood (disappointment in life seems a steady constant these days, I regret to say). But even if I try to assess in the most judicious manner, I cannot like this book. I do enjoy novels about self-exploration and self-discovery, but there's so many others preferable over this. The level of annoyance felt is on a consistent rise throughout the book and it is just a mess at the end. I remember Bellow saying in an interview that the character in his bibliography he himself is most like is Henderson. Say it ain't so, Sol. Say it ain't so.
Have you ever noticed some people who possess detestable character traits which others are usually in agreement in frowning upon but for some inexplicable reason in these people everyone around them instead finds those same traits excusable and even endearing? "Oh, he's hopelessly stupid, but it's good for laughs." "Yes, he's loud and talks too much but you've just got to understand him." Well, that's Henderson. Loud, never shuts up, always whining about not getting anything right yet somehow is supremely confident and rushes into outlandish situations certain of his own imminent success. He stomps forward and through people fully expecting everyone to make way, loves to reflect but his trap keeps flapping. His soul yearns for something but he has simply taken what he wants all his life. I don't get it. I suspect there isn't much to get. Even if there is, I don't really want to try anymore.
Maybe this book will appeal to you. I don't know. A lot of readers seem to have enjoyed following this sweaty fatty while he looks for his spirit-animal. I don't really like to criticize a book so harshly. I never thought I'd give a negative review for a Saul Bellow novel in a million years. Maybe it's my mood (disappointment in life seems a steady constant these days, I regret to say). But even if I try to assess in the most judicious manner, I cannot like this book. I do enjoy novels about self-exploration and self-discovery, but there's so many others preferable over this. The level of annoyance felt is on a consistent rise throughout the book and it is just a mess at the end. I remember Bellow saying in an interview that the character in his bibliography he himself is most like is Henderson. Say it ain't so, Sol. Say it ain't so.