Customer Reviews

Black Spring

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Excuse me for my bad English: I'm Italian and I don't speak English. I have found Black Spring completely different from Tropics of Cancer: this is blood, sex and hunger, without thinking (so appear, naturally), that is remember and philosophy, a wondereful mix. Miller is a hard man, and like all the hard men, he is also an hopeless romantic.

I just finished reading BLACK SPRING. It blew me away. Henry Miller's storytelling style is so personal, it's kind of like taking an unexpected medium punch in the gut. The geography becomes local, the imagery is rough, obscene and poetic, and goes on for pages at a time. Miller becomes larger than life, powerful through his honesty and vulnerability. I am amazed with his unique ability to effortlessly paint such vivid pictures, wander aimlessly through haunting nightmares, and relive pleasure and passion. From sitting around in the Parisian home of friend Jabberewohl Crondstadt celebrating each other's conquests and madness, to wandering the dark bum-piss hooker-lined streets of forbidden America, I found myself constantly stopping, re-reading and wondering how he took me there. Eventually I stopped raising my hand to ask questions, and just sat back and listened.

One of Miller's earliest books,and considered to be the second in the Tropics trilogy, this is a collection of short sketches (for lack of a better term) by a young Henry Miller using the mature writer's voice that makes him such a powerful speaker. With pieces like "The Angel is My Watermark", a hilarious self-portrait of Miller in Paris suffering an excess of artistic inspiration, to a tender reminiscence of his father's New York tailor shop, this book contains a side to Henry Miller rarely seen through the publicity but known to his careful readers; a side that is philosophical, spiritual, and funny. It remains one of Miller's best and most enduring books.

These stories have in my view some of the best English language prose that was written in the 20th century. A "voice" runs through them, that takes words and carefully crafts them into meaning, so beautifully written it is almost painful. Of course the quality of the stories is somewhat uneven, two or three really stand out, but I find it a marvellous collection overall. An unexpected must-read!

Black Spring is one of Miller's earlier efforts belonging to the Paris-written era of The Tropic's of Cancer and Capricorn. Whilst hilarious and enjoyable to read it suffers from too much Capricorn-esque angst-ridden soul rimming. A great book to read, but I would recommend Quiet Days In Clinchy as Miller's best French novel. It is equally humourous and has no extra pussyfooting around.

The "Paris books" are by far the best work Henry Miller produced and Black Spring, a collection of shorter pieces that followed Tropic of Cancer should rank at the top. If I had to make a list: Black Spring, Tropic of Capricorn, Tropic of Cancer, Quiet Days in Clichy. Black Spring contains some of his best work and displays his dazzling use of language and the exhilarating build-up of detail. This book contains some his most energetic writing. My favorite is the first piece in the book, his depiction of his Brooklyn days, which stands as classic "memoir" writing. Speaking of which, in Henry Miller's day, there were very few people writing fiction disguised as "memoir." Now take a look around and that's all you'll see! Imagine the world without Henry Miller! No Jack Kerouac, no Frederick Exley, no Dave Eggers. Black Spring is a MUST-READ for anyone interested in this kind of writing. Another recommendation for younger readers: The Losers' Club by Richard Perez

"I am dazzled by the glorious collapse of the world."

....some vignettes here start out pretty innocent here but once Henry Miller gets a figurative and literal bug up his-- he waxes and waxes and waxes poetically (a lot of times in alliteration) about life, death and the cosmos. He and Bukowski are my favorite derelict writers, I feel I always get something from them although their story-telling is not always linear. And I love to read them both aloud. Why, when Henry really starts these tirades, sometimes its best to have an unabridged dictionary on hand. All the previous reviewers seem to like the recounting of Henry in the pissoire. My favorite piece is the hilarious and poignant "Jabberwhorl ("But it must be in the key of C") Crondstadt" who turns out to have a refugee sanctuary and who's own illness (abated by cognac and cayenne) exposes to Henry something about madness and art and creation. It simply must be read aloud for appreciation. Henry Miller is not evvybody's glass of absinthe, but for me, he is great...like he says, "What is not in the open street is false, that is derived, that is, literature" I have not been everywhere he has, but I have been where he has been a lot and most of his writings, even those which are way too funky to decipher are fun and enjoyable to read in my opinion. Most of his writing may be just too, too real for anyone who is not willing to take up the challenge...

Stream-of-conscious in the manner of James Joyce, although Miller
is somewhat more accessable than Joyce. The rhythms and
concerns of day-to-day life for this man where varied indeed. I
am constantly amazed and say to myself where does he get this stuff?

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The chapter entitled A Saturday Afternoon can be counted as the most brilliant pieceof writing ever. In it, Henry Miller is urinating in a French urinal and begins to philosophize. I don't understand that, but it's brilliant