Tropic of Cancer

A few years ago I gave a friend a copy of Henry Miller's novel Tropic of Cancer for his birthday. He was so impressed with this book that he has since worked his way through Miller's canon of work. After discovering that I had not in fact read Tropic of Cancer he has insisted that I take up the challenge. Well after a year of procrastination I finally relented and read Mr Miller's novel and I must confess that once I read a third of the book I was hooked.

Tropic of Cancer has two distinct threads of narration; or one could say the author reveals two aspects of his character. The first aspect is the narration of the base human senses, solely concerned with satiating the urges for food, sex and money. This side of Miller's character is confronting, at times offensive but always one feels a starkly honest account of his Bohemian life in Paris.

The Second voice is that of the poet and mystic, lying in the gutter but gazing at the stars! Miller penetrates the filth and harsh reality of a transient life in the seedy artistic underbelly of Paris with great insight. His musings on life are often profound and universal in nature; he describes a wild and meaningless cosmic play unfolding before him and ultimately laughs at the absurdity of humanity's sense of self importance. An American Zorba or perhaps just a very naughty New Yorker?

Worth a read.

Ross