Customer Reviews

Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch

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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.

In the 1940's and '50's, long before the New Age gurus and their guides to better living, author Henry Miller was letting his soul run free and writing about it high above the Pacific Ocean in remote Big Sur, California. This book is his account of that experience after his return from Europe and subsequent car tour of America. It is a refreshing, joyous, insightful, touching, humorous and often profound book that challenges our acceptance of today's hectic world while also being essential reading for those who have read the two Tropics and would like a better understanding of the man behind these books, two of the greatest and most controversial of all time.

"This is my answer!" states Miller in the book's opening pages, and in this regard Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch is his Walden. Because it was here, in the far West, far removed from hs native New York, that Miller found the only home he could abide by in America, a place where he fe! lt he could live peaceably as a creative artist apart from a way of life he saw as thin and meaningless and which he had long since turned his back on.

It was not easy living. The convict shack where Miller initially stayed, a thousand feet above the crashing waves, had neither electricity nor plumbing. There was also the intense isolation. At that time, Big Sur was strictly for the adventurous, a small colony of artists and individuals seeking to live and raise families freely, simply, and close to nature. Highway One had yet to bring the tourists.

But despite these difficulties, and probably because of them, Miller came to see Big Sur as the first real home he had ever known. Creatively, he flourished, finding everything his spirit needed in the friendship of the community and the brilliant light and beauty of this road less traveled. He would live there for 15 years, writing, painting, raising a family, making friends, and suffering the occasional, unannounced fan! .

It is clear in reading this book that the awesome beaut! y of Big Sur affected Miller deeply, as did Paris in the 1930's and Greece afterwards. He came to see the people he met there as kindred spirits in a timeless sanctuary conducive to reflection, perspective, and inner peace. This new found consciousness found its way into his writing.

As with many of his books, Big Sur is not a strict linear narrative, but a collection of thoughts, reminiscences, hopes, dreams, loves, stories, and reveries. The core of the book -- what shines through most -- is the reality of the man, his viewpoint, and a wisdom born of spiritual freedom and real experience. This is not to be found in much of anything written today.

Unlike today's authors, Miller knew what it was like to live without money, to be hungry on the street, to be maligned, to turn against convention, and to subordinate all to art. Not all of what he did in life can be considered honorable. But he refused to be a pessimist or give up on life's possibilities. Optimism and ho! pe were diamonds at the heart of him. Art, his salvation. The best of his character, his view and love of life, his being driven to create and express himself, his transcending what others accept blindly, his pursuit of individuality and a spirit enlightened and at rest, is this book's gift to readers.

For those ready for it, this book inspires, and we are made better for knowing the truths Miller lived by and the paradise called Big Sur that nurtured his wandering soul.

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.

My first glimpse into the world of Henry Miller has brought me a new highly admired author to read. Though 'Big Sur' is reputed to be one of his more 'tame works'...Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn having been banned works for years due to their highly sexual content, the mind of Miller is indeed a wonderous place to explore.

I came across this title while searching online for info about Kerouac's novel 'Big Sur', and decided to indulge in this one as well. And a happy treat awaited me.

Having only recent begun to enjoy 'biography as fiction' works, it takes a rare author to put one at peace with their words, when they are simply a recounting of thier own life and adventures. Miller wrote 'Big Sur' not so much as a 'novel', since there is not a conventional thread to follow, other than the location and himself as protagonist, but more as a memoir of the 15 years spent in this California 'paradise' of artists, bohemians, and eclectic characters. Through describing his tranquil, ambling days spent walking back and forth with supplies from town, meeting the thrice-per-week mail delivery, or simply writing, the reader gets to experience the serenity that Miller enjoyed throughout most of his time there. Being a Virgo I look for structure, order, sense, etc., in most things, especially literature. Little of that is to be found here, really, but Miller's style is so captivating that you can't help but read on. His serenity at Big Sur easily becomes your own.

But be warned, that serenity is interrupted by the arrival of an oversees acquaintance, Conrad Moricand, who turns Miller's idyllic home upside down during his stay there. Moricand, an ailing, miserable, curmudgeonly man comes to Big Sur upon Miller's request, and had the term 'houseguest from hell' been utilized in the days this novel was written, it's easy to say that Moricand would have received this title.

For anyone thinking of exploring the works of Henry Miller for the first time, perhaps avoiding his more famous works until gaining a bit of insight into something a little more 'platonic' such as this book might be well-advised. It will pave the way of interest into this fascinating author, and hopefully spark further investigation, as it has with me.

Highly recommended.

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.

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

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.

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.

This one is slightly different for Miller, more laid back, but as usual he is the most brilliant and intensely unique writer ever to come from America (at least to my knowledge). He's a Walt Whitman and a Mark Twain and a William Blake rolled into one genius. I say read ALL of Henry Miller you can get your hands on, and be glad!

For fans of Henry Miller this is a great book. For those that aren't, yet still bother to read this review: Henry Miller is conversational in all his books (early 3rd person attempts aside), what you are doing when you pick up his books is to sit and listen to him speak, his conversations are always interesting and can fly off into any direction: He wasn't precious, and that's why many of us like him.
I enjoy where he talks about being withdrawn, sullen, and bad company when he writes, yet a glowing talkative companion when painting.