This autobiographical novel of a young Southerner’s childhood, early youth and college days in the early 20th
century has been criticized for its excessive length, its repetitive
verboseness, its formlessness, its lack of a point, its self-indulgence, its surrealism. But readers who enjoy coming of age stories
will enjoy it as will those looking for a literary masterpiece that reminds one
of guitarist Buckethead.
What I mean, both Wolfe and Buckethead will meander off on tangents, but then
they hit the note, there’s nothing like them. Beautiful, compelling,
awe-inspiring.
A doctor’s rebuke: “My dear, dear girl [. . .] we can't
turn back the days that have gone. We can't turn life back to the hours when
our lungs were sound, our blood hot, our bodies young. We are a flash of
fire--a brain, a heart, a spirit. And we are three-cents-worth of lime and
iron--which we cannot get back.”
The restless American soul: “...he was like a man who
stands upon a hill above the town he had left, yet does not say 'The town is
near,' but turns his eyes upon the distant soaring ranges.”
Youthful dramatizing: “Dull people filled him with
terror.”
Provincial UNC at about the time of WWI: “Few of the
university's sons had been distinguished in the nation's life--there had been
an obscure President of the United States, and a few Cabinet members, but few
had sought such distinction: it was glory enough to be a great man in one's
State. Nothing beyond mattered very much.”
The riddle of our lives indeed: “Eugene looked with
passionate devotion at that grand old head, calm, wise and comforting. In a
moment of vision, he saw that, for him, here was the last of those giants to
whom we give the faith of our youth, believing like children that the riddle of
our lives may be solved by their quiet judgment.”
Writer Paul Ford said, “Pick any historical subject and the
Internet will bring it to life before your eyes.” So, for readers into novels
as artifacts of bygone eras (aka antique Americana), thanks to the web we can
find out right away about allusions to pop culture of a hundred years ago. For
instance, follow the links for contemporary tunes:
Eugene remembered the soft cool
nights of summer, the assembled boarders and "I Wonder Who's Kissing Her
Now," which Gant demanded over and over; "Love Me and the World Is Mine";
"Till the Sands of
the Desert Grow Cold"; "Dear Old Girl, the Rob-BIN
Sings Above You"; "The End of a Perfect Day";
and "Alexander's Rag-Time Band," which Luke had practised in a
tortured house for weeks, and sung with thunderous success in the High School
Minstrels.
For discerning readers, a wonderful, shrewd epic.
I read this book decades ago in college and loved the energy of it--you're right, Wolfe rambles, but the life force that permeates the book is electrifying.
ReplyDeleteI really need to reread it.
>The restless American soul: “...he was like a man who stands upon a hill above the town he had left, yet does not say 'The town is near,' but turns his eyes upon the distant soaring ranges.”
Great quote!