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Rating: 
Summary: Enjoyable -- You'll dig it!
Review: After writing The Air Conditioned Nightmare, Henry Miller had almost given up hope on America. This book, Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch, recounts how he feel in love with the country all over again. Set in Northern California, Big Sur is portraitized as being no less than a paradise to this influencial writer. He was seeking to eke out some peaceful lifestyle in the mountains, and for a while he found it. But it did not take long for groupies, love children, and any other manner of lost souls to begin knocking on his door. They were looking for the "cult of anarchy and sex!" and they thought Miller, who had already published and gained notoriety with The Tropic of Cancer, would be the one to lead the way. This book has a definite buoyancy that the reader thrives off. His descriptions of writers, artists,children,and vagabongs is top notch. I would also advise anyone who is seriously interested in the subject, to pick up a copy of Hunter S. Thompson's The Proud Highway. It includes an excellent essay on his take on Miller's "sudden" fame. So pick up this book! Other quick Amazon picks would be Tropic of Cancer, The Losers' Club by Richard Perez
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Summary: Evocative, if Disconnected, Reflections on Life in Big Sur
Review: Henry Miller was an American original, and one of the most memorable personalities among American writers of this century. In 1930, at the age of 38, he left He left New York City to go to Paris, determined to become a great writer. He had very little money and lived on the largesse of his friends, including Anais Nin. Some ten years later, after having written the "Tropics" books that made him famous, he settled in Big Sur, California, an area with some of the prettiest and most spectacular coastal scenery in the country -- and maybe even the world. At that time, real estate was still relatively inexpensive in this small village, and artists and other interesting characters abounded. This book recounts his life in Big Sur, and succeeds admirably in evoking time and place. The narrative is somewhat disconnected at times, and launches into asides that may not interest some. But the quality of Miller's prose -- and the passion for Big Sur and its people that it expresses -- more than make up for that. Incidentally, if you make it to Big Sur, and have any interest in Henry Miller, check out the Henry Miller library, assuming it is still open.
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Summary: saved my life
Review: I first read this book exactly ten years ago when I was struggling through a profound period of depression. I don't want to say that the book cured me, because that would be too facile and too drastic a declaration, but I will say that Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch was the first real beacon, the first glimmer of light to lead me out of a suffocating psychological cave. I don't know why, exactly, but when I began reading the book, a deep sense of peace came over me for the first time in several months. The book seemed to open up my eyes and my ears and my throat and even my lungs; I found myself sucking in big sweet gulps of air, and I started to detect a freedom and a limitlessness in the world that I had previously failed to recognize. Of course, there is no way that I can promise that you will have the same reaction. Over the years I have passed the book along to various friends: Some of them have fallen in love with it and some of them have been utterly bored. That is understandable. The book has no plot; in fact, it doesn't really pretend to have any forward momentum. The narrative just floats. As other reviewers have noted (both enthusiastically and bitterly), Henry Miller delivers in this book a seemingly random swirl of philosophy, wit, character studies, soaring observations of topography and weather, literary and arty musings, puzzles, koans, epigrams, aphorisms, scripture, historical trivia, astrological forecasts, and jokes. It does not, upon first glance, have any point whatsoever. But that, friend, is the point. What Miller is laying out here (in a unique way, free of the usual hippie jargon) is a meditation on how to live a different life, a vibrant life, a life of the spirit, which is, by his definition, a narrative that refuses to conform to the usual numbing standards of conduct. So if you are looking for a "story," per se, keep driving until you get to Monterey. And if you are looking for some of Henry Miller's famously invigorating foulness and fury, pick up Tropic of Cancer instead. If you are looking for peace, stop here.
Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch is for any reader who is in the mood for a beguiling rumination on how a man once tried to bring peace into his life. The story, as such, is this: Henry Miller moves to Big Sur, one of the most beautiful places on the planet, and sets out to create a new home infused with energy, creativity, a sense of community, and an appreciation of nature, while at the same time he copes with intrusions and financial pressures and the charisma and creepiness of other people. That's it. If that sounds dull to you, steer clear. If it sounds seductive to you, plunge in. Because if these are issues that gnaw at your soul (and maybe they should, since our media-saturated culture is becoming more programmed and conformist every day), then you might find this book to be a page-turner as gripping as any of John Grisham's potboilers. I could not put it down. I read it straight through, and afterwards, I felt like every step I took was charged up with a new vitality. Crazy, huh? The way I see it, Henry Miller's big lascivious grin was one of the bravest acts of American rebellion, because it came roaring out of his heart, and the heart is where all true liberation takes place. That's the appeal of this book, for anybody who cares to explore it. In my case, this book said to a depressed man: There is another way to live. Choose it.
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Summary: Ignore that last review.
Review: I must say that I am biased. Henry Miller is one of my favorite authors of all time. I have sought out the rare and out of print editions in libraries and bookstores throughout the US and Europe. I first found this book in a small used bookstore in Bisbee, AZ. I was on my way to Spain. The opening sentence in the book caught my attention because it opens with a similar intention. "In 19** I set out for Spain. I never made it there." I would make it to Spain, but only after a struggle that would challenge Prometheus himself. Certainly, this is one of Miller's finest efforts. He discusses life, art and writing and relates it all to the peace he found living in his small eutopic cabin in Big Sur, making use of the denizens as characters, reviving other specters from previous works, and detailing the fanatics who would camp at the doorstep of the 80-year-old author in search of the Cult of Sex and Anarchy. The most interesting, most poignant differe! nce between this and so many of Miller's works is his clarity of thought. The ramblings are present as only Miller can present them, but they exude a definite cognizence, a undeniable consciousness of a man who has lived life to the utmost, and now seeks only the solitude under which he might write his final notes on the strangest journey of all -- that of daily existence. There is something for the artist in this book, something for the writer and something for the philosopher. You will not go away disappointed, or even dazed. Miller strikes out at his usual targets: passion and the root of creativity, with undaunted focus and a genius of his own creation.
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Summary: One of 20 books I'd choose to take to a deserted isle
Review: This book, and a couple of others by Miller and L. Durrell, was responsible for my husband and me quitting our jobs in LA and going to Greece for a year. And several times in the past decades, I've made pilgrimages to Partington Ridge/cove/trail/creek down the coast of Big Sur to revisit the place Miller lived and to pay homage to a great writer, a great spirit, and a great human being. Each time I stop and look up the trail toward the ridge, I swear I can see stringy, rangy Miller, sweating as he pulls a goat-cart laden with mail and groceries from the drop-off spot by the highway back up to his convict shack near the top.
The book has no real plot; it?s just a rambling and random collection of philosophy, character studies, literary/artistic commentary, and journaling - all delivered with Miller's completely unique and quirky mind. I don't believe a more open-minded, curious, brilliant writer has ever lived, and for me, this is his best book, written perhaps during some of his best and most peaceful years of his long and joyful life. At its core, it's a recipe for Life.
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Summary: Miller's reflections on a place
Review: This is a satisfying read if you appreciate language and character. It is a collection of views and vignettes of the author's life when he lived in Big Sur. Miller's unique personality and interests come through in his language that makes even ordinary things come more to life. It was interesting to discover what seemed like proto-new age thinking in some of this, written in the 1950's. His evocations of character are great and so is the feel of the environment. I read part of the book during a trip that took me through Big Sur, and it deepened my enjoyment of being there. The Henry Miller Library is worth visiting.
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