Rating: 
Summary: Miller and Nin
Review: I am no expert in Miller. I can only relate my personal experience here, as a woman talking these books over with friends. This book clearly reflects Miller's daily -male- conflicts and isolation. His sense of isolation is different from your average female experience; womens' placement at the centre of society, rather than on the perimeter, gives them a certain social inviolability. This is fiction written by men, meant for male readers. You may disagree with the latter statement. I can only counter with personal experience. How many times, it seems, I have heard men say they love Miller but hate his colleague Anais Nin, heard women say they love Anais Nin and -detest- Henry Miller! Miller clearly illustrated the struggles of the modern male in an overpopulated, competitive, and inconsiderate world. Thus it is deeply meaningful from an essentially male perspective. I am not saying this novel isn't interesting to women who are capable of androgynous thought (commendable for either sex) and detatchment from some of the verbal slaps Miller delivers -- it certainly is. But Anais Nin is a more pleasurable experience from my perspective, deeper, with more interesting episodes and character sketches. I also feel a sense of security with her in that I know I will not be exposed to rage. I know that this expression of rage is valuable to some modern men precisely because it is a behavior which is -strictly- curbed by society, in fact the merest hint of it is sometimes enough encouragement for calling a police officer; but I hope, Dear Readers, that the themes of this book will remain precisely where they belong -- safely in print. I do wonder whether Nin and Miller did not have a polarizing effect on one anothers' writing, in making each more consciously aware of their own sexuality and their struggles with sexuality. If you are a woman who feels that reading Miller was unpleasant, try remembering that unlike with Aboriginal societies, there aren't two separate camps for men and women where male and female art is created privately. Male writers are fully aware that the majority of women are now reading, and reading skeptically, and have been for a couple of centuries. I consider it to be one of the ills of modern society that men and women have so little opportunity to keep secrets from one another that even their sex-specific art falls under examination by the opposite sex. If Henry Miller himself picked up a similarly misandristic (man-hating) work he'd throw it down right away. It is too much for your average man (and writers are the essence of the purified average) to be at the butt-end of savage attacks from women. Since they imagine that women feel the same way they do about criticism from the opposite sex, they employ similar tactics. An expression of misogyny is usually an expression of unease on the part of modern men writers -- a NO GIRLS ALLOWED sign. It's a sign of how different the sexes truly are that women have the endurance to read fiction positively packed with these signs. If the situation were reversed -- a woman writer attacking men -- most men would run for the hills. I have to say however that that is -normal- and is only a sign of men's desire to have only -good- interaction with women. Now if only we could have a 'men's section', a 'women's section' -and- a literature section in the bookstores, what a fine world it would be. Perhaps in the future, men (and women) will discover a way of privatizing their sex-specific fiction. But if the intensity of 'male-camp' fiction disturbs you and you want something with more personal meaning -- go pick up a copy of either the Diaries of Anais Nin or some of her short stories. You won't be disappointed. I gave this book 3 out of 5 stars. While well-written and imbued with an almost tender desire to reach out to fellow male sufferers, it had little personal impact.
Rating: 
Summary: Just so you know what you're getting....
Review: The book is great, as I'm sure thta you can tell from the other reviews. I ordered this from Amazon.com, and?just so you know?the cover on the book that I received had different art than the art featured on the site. Not that it makes any difference in the reading, but I thought some of you might like to know. The art on the cover of the book I received looks like the cover in Amazon.com's picture of the two book set, if anyone is REALLY interested.
Rating:
Summary: Great.
Review: Some might call his writing 'self- aggrandizing' and 'self- absorbed,' but what would this book be without it? At the start of this novel, Miller has few things for which he can dignify his existence. This parallels with the avalanche of characters who cling to one thing or another to justify their own existence in order to push on (whether it be sex, religion, self loathing, etc.) Thank you Miller, what incredible insight! For those who've got a problem with Miller's pretentious prose, you might consider the theme of the novel. Get over yourself long enough to learn from Miller's color of truth, not your own. This isn't your autobiography. It's a fabulous book, but I have a suggestion to the reader: Instead of getting dismayed by Miller's tone, use it. Incorporate it into the theme of the book, and you won't be disappointed.
Rating: 
Summary: Imagine a world without it.
Review: I know Henry Miller didn't invent being an oversexed, alcoholic, intellectual bum. In a way he's more of a dying breed. You know the unemployable Rennaissance Man. The all-too-obviously-talented misfit with the big head and bigger heart. Sure you see them all the time now, but are they authenitc, or are they Henry Miller [imitations]? By writing Tropic of Cancer, Miller may have made men like himself obsolete. Or maybe I'm just trying jerk your chain with [inexpensive] ideas the same way he does. Maybe I'm an [imitation]. Anyway, it's dirty, ugly, and very pure. Without Miller's influeince we lose out on William S Burroughs, Charles Buckowski, Bob Dylan, Jim Carroll, Lou Reed, punk rock, cyberpunk, Irvine Welsh, Hal Hartley, Denis Johnson, and other slightly altered [imitations] who continue to make our culture worthwhile.
Rating:
Summary: Invigorating Joie de Vivre
Review: Henry Miller invigorates the mind and soul with his love and zest for life. His positivity and sense of humor shine throughout this free-spirited, innovative, & unrestricted stream of consciousness autobiographical landmark novel. Inspiring and refreshing it is that Miller maintains his positvity despite being in the midst of The Great Depression and living a desperate and destitute existence at times throughout the novel. Having read Miller's fellow expatriate Hemingway, I liken Tropic of Cancer to The Sun Also Rises - albeit as an NC-17 version. I found Tropic of Cancer to be highly compelling reading despite its lack of structure and organization. This book, above any other, makes me yearn to be a writer. I admire Miller - not for his nihilistic and chaotic lifestyle - but for his ingenuity, his passion for his writing, and his resiliency which allowed him to write such an uncompromising work under no paramaters or publisher constraints whatsoever - which would go on to influence many future writers as well as serve as the blueprint for the autobiographical novel. Si vous pouvez lire francais, c'est tres utile pour ce livre. I ordered Tropic of Cancer to see what all of the fuss was about - and I wasn't disappointed. This is truly an underrated novel and understandably one that is primarily read for pleasure as opposed to assigned class reading - definitely not one for Billy Bob and Sue Ann in high school. I've never met anyone who has read this book and those who know about it refer to it as "trashy". Oftentimes perception becomes reality, but not here. It is sometimes sick and perverted & sometimes nasty(the ubiquity of the lice and roaches is enticing). But, overall it is Miller's infectious enthusiasm and overwhelming love of life(and women) that inspires and invigorates the soul. I recommend Tropic to anyone who is in need of a literature experience that will prove anything but ordinary.
Rating:
Summary: Das Tier Darin und Die Seele
Review: _Tropic of Cancer_ alternates between making your stomach crawl and setting your soul on fire. Miller will twist your guts until you want to scream at the depravity of the actions, thoughts, and outlook presented in short, sharp sentences that cut into your belly. And then the prose will sing on the page and make it so you want to weep with the beauty of it. As Miller writes into these conflicting thoughts it divides the brain; no, it causes the sides of your brain to smash into each other so hard that it hurts. Contrasting the beautiful with the ugly and the ugly with the beautiful, we are left feeling schizophrenic and scared out of our minds that this might actually be how the world is, how humanity is: eternally struggling with das tier darin und die seele.* This conflict continues throughout the book up until the final page. Miller seems convinced that this is the world we live in. One so sharply divided that not a single person can over come the beast all of the time. Eventually we all succumb again to those animal needs of the genitals and the stomach. They can be waylaid with art and literature, but eventually the beast will rear its ugly head again, even with the smallest mention of a friend's woman or the sight of food on a child's plate. But while wallowing through the filth and obscenity, we must not ignore the moments of ambrosia in Miller's writing. Miller's philosophic passages point to a insightful, if not tortured, soul. One that looks into the world and can write on it beautifully. Miller reminds us that while the beast can get in our face, exploding out of our stomachs and genitalia, that we do have a side capable of beauty and wonder. For Miller, like many modern writers, the world is a fractured place; split in two between the beauty and ugliness of man. His expression of that in his writings reflects that very nature of humanity. Miller is writing obscenities and poetry to keep us grounded. We cannot be just one or the other, but must accept both sides--the beast and the soul--as who we are: 'Monsters we must be, lest monsters we become.' * "the beast within and the soul"
Rating:
Summary: Tropic of Cancer
Review: This is one of those books that stun and shock the system. It is an active, living document. Its prose is bold and loud. It roars at us from the start. We start to crawl, walk, then trot, then gallop through its luminous twisting caverns. Miller's inner glow lights the way. Without the light, we would follow his reverberating, joyous laughter that booms off the walls. We follow straight on to the promised land. We find that what is promised is life. We reach the last page. We have just fed on homecooked solids. We are exhausted and full. We are better for it. Some have said that this is the greatest novel written by an American. It is. It could be the greatest novel ever written. There is not an extraneous word nor a mangled sentence in it. Miller shows us what it's like to be on the streets, on the run, on the go, poor, and happy. He laughs always, drinks always, with cheer, lustful for more life, more experience. The charachters are real people and we recognize them. Spasmodic thoughts wrapped in florid wordship call out revelations long after the perusal. Afterall, this is a code, a code of the soul. It is written in the animal tongue so we hear it. Reading this book is an experience that adds to us. It makes us taller, stronger. Denuded of the normal logistical standards of modern literature it speaks to us in a pedestrian, straightforward manner. We imbibe it as one does a tonic. It is without side effects. The prose quickens and breathes life into the dead. It is medicinal. I speak of "The Tropic of Cancer" as an accurate mirroring of a fully naked life. There must be sex, love, lust, hate, anger, nonsense, bacchanal and injustice in a truthful account of life. There must be honesty. We only need to look, Henry Miller shows us what a full life looks like. A reflection of life as a whole. This book is complete. And yes, this is the greatest novel written by an American. Perhaps, the best novel ever written.
Rating:
Summary: Beautiful losers
Review: This is one of the books that, like Ulysses, has had its reputation as a smutty book expounded so much that you may well be surprised at how lean - with the passage of time - it actually seems in the department. However, you will not fail to be impressed by the beauty of the prose and the sheer forcefulness and clarity of Miller's writing. Although he writes here about the darkest, grittiest, most painfully honest, down-to-earth every day subjects, he does it with a passion and exuberance, and a sheer joy for life. Although Miller was not a man in the best of circumstances when he was living the life the he describes in this book - a life that most of us, surely, would not wish to replicate - he was not a man despondent or dejected; indeed, he was positively brimming over with his joy in his circumstances. Though Miller writes candidly and very honestly about things that most every other book fails to mention - dirt, bugs, feces, sexually transmitted diseases - as long as he had food (and perhaps the occasional lay), he was happy. One may well call him a hedonist, but rarely do we see one embrace life so fully, its warts and all, as did Miller. We are lucky to have the chronicle of his experiences. Immediately famous and immediately banned as obscene upon its release in 1934, one sees, upon reading this book in the present day light, just what a major impact it has had on modern day literature. Aside from opening up a whole new school of literature and a new spector of art with this autobiographical novel, it also became the central point in the famous court decision that changed U.S. censorship laws forever. And yet, aside from its mere historical importance, the book remains vibrant, fresh, and exciting even today. Essential reading for anyone who craves their great literature off the beaten path.
Rating:
Summary: A down-and-dirty classic
Review: The back cover of Henry Miller's novel "Tropic of Cancer" notes that the book was first published in Paris in 1934, but banned as obscene in the United States for 27 years until a historic court ruling was made. Thus, "Tropic of Cancer" is significant as a historical artifact in addition to being a literary work of art. The book tells the story of an American writer named Henry Miller who lives in Paris. Henry definitely lives in the seedy underbelly of the city; the book follows him to the bars, cafes, and whorehouses and details his encounters with a number of colorful characters. "Tropic of Cancer" opens on a grungy note as the narrator discusses the lice infestation of his friend's armpits. Early on the narrator promises that this will not be a polite book: "This is libel, slander, defamation of character [...] a prolonged insult, a gob of spit in the face of Art." Miller largely succeeds to deliver on this promise. The book is full of profanity, and there are frank discussions of sex, sexually transmitted diseases, and other such topics. The book has a crude charm and energy throughout, even though at times the prose seems wildly self-indulgent. Miller depicts Paris as a magical place, a pilgrimage site for artists and wanderers. The narrator often reflects on writing and literature in general, and on his own artistic goals and theories in particular. There is also reflection on America and American identity. Miller's prose sometimes attains a Whitmanesque revelatory quality. To me the main question about this book is thus: Is it merely an important historic artifact, or does it still sing as a work of living literature? My own reply to this question: the book does still sing, delivering (to quote the book itself) "bloated pages of ecstasy slimed with excrement." If you like it, also check out the writing of Charles Bukowski.
Rating: 
Summary: didn't get it?
Review: I really looked forward to reading this book, and it had its good points, which escape me at this time, seeing as I read this book roughly seven months ago. I was disappointed by it and would not consider reading it again. I guess I just don't like the way Miller writes. I was not shocked or offended, just bored and annoyed most of the time. I enjoyed the bits that were in French, and it was funny when that guy (Nonentity?)[went to the bathroom] in the bidet, but overall, I could have lived without reading this book.
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