The Colossus of Maroussi (Penguin Modern Classics)

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Greece herself may become embroiled as we ourselves are now becoming embroiled, but I refuse categorically to become anything less than the citizen of the world which I silently declared myself to be when I stood in Agamemnon’s tomb. From that day forth[,] my life was dedicated to the recovery of the divinity of man. Peace to all men, I say, and life more abundant! Return to the United States And I wanted to like it. Miller was close friends with Lawrence Durrell, who I know well as "Larry" from his younger brother Gerald's hilarious books about his childhood running wild in Corfu. My desire to recapture a bit of that magic was dashed over and over as Miller drones on about Agamemnon or whatever the hell. On the content side, he outright orientalizes Greece conflating modern poverty with mythological romance in his ham-fisted attempt to indict America for all sorts of modern ills. And then there's the misogyny: "... I was impressed by the absence of those glaring defects which make even the most beautiful American or English woman glaringly ugly. The Greek woman even when she is cultured, is first and foremost a woman. She sheds a distinct fragrance; she warms and thrills you." UGH. I have shared this book with many people who did not like Miller and their minds were changed forever. What more can be said? I don't miss anything," I said, pressing the point home. "I think this is marvellous. I don't like your gardens with their high walls, I don't like your pretty little orchards and your well-cultivated-fields. I like this …" and I pointed outdobrs to the dusty road on which a sorely-laden donkey was plodding along dejectedly. "But it's not civilized," she said, in a sharp, shrill voice which reminded me of the miserly tobacconiste in the Rue de la Tombe-Issoire.

It's on paper a travel book, but if you are looking for some sort of in-depth, detailed account of Greece and it's history, then this will not be the book for you, as that's not really the kind of book it is. It is more a journey of self-discovery for Miller and revelation, and although he does talk about the places he visits and gives a good account of them in his own poetic way, it's more about how Greece makes him feel, than anything else. He clearly has quite a spiritual awakening while spending time there, and he writes in a very effusive way, seeming as if he's becoming almost ecstatically happy and joyous as he travels around; philosophising with rapturous delight half the time, unless he's caught in a downpour, or being bothered by the odd tedious individual, here and there... Some critics call "The Colossus of Maroussi"--Henry Miller`s account of his trip to Greece on the eve of World War II--the greatest travel book ever. But, like all great travel books, it's much more than mere depiction of beautiful landscapes, missed connections, bad weather, and surly waiters--though Miller recounts those as well. Rather, the book stands as a compelling paean to the Greek spirit, to liberty, and to life--as well as a barbaric yawp prefiguring the coming cataclysm.Unfortunately, our bloviating Greek poet friend is just getting warmed up: English hasn't got any guts to-day. You're all castrated, you've become business men, engineers, technicians. It sounds like wooden money dropping into a sewer. Vidal, Gore (9 September 1988). "From outlaws to intriguers". The Times Literary Supplement. p.979. Archived from the original on 4 March 2016 . Retrieved 14 August 2021.

I love these men, each and every one," writes Miller, "for having revealed to me the true proportions of the human being...the goodness, the integrity, the charity which they emanated. They brought me face to face with myself, they cleansed me of hatred and jealousy and envy." He underscores this view of us, as animals caught in a steel maze of our own making, by his frequent metaphoric mixing of nature's fecundity and manmade tawdriness, as when he describes the approach to Delphi:On the eve of Clean Straw for Nothing’s publication, Clift overdosed on barbiatuates in Sydney. In a posthumously-published essay, My Husband George, Clift wrote: “I do believe that novelists must be free to write what they like, in any way they liked to write it, and after all who but myself had urged and nagged him into it?” They thought it a very interesting story. So that's how it was in America? Strange country ... anything could happen there. Henry Miller’ı müstehcen olduğu gerekçesiyle uzunca bir süre yazıldığı dönemin yasaklı kitapları arasında olan Yengeç ve Oğlak Dönencesi ile tanıdım. Kesinlikle doğru, kitaplar fazla müstehcen olmakla beraber edebi değeri ise paha biçilemez bana göre. Aradan geçen bu sürede Marousi’nin Devi’yle karşımda bambaşka bir Hery Miller buldum. Kitabının son sayfalarında da bunu doğrulayan bir cümlesi var; ‘gözlerim bağlı, bocalayan, kararsız, adımlarla yürümüştüm;gururlu, kibirliydim...’

Miller, Henry (18 May 2010). The Colossus of Maroussi (Seconded.). New Directions Publishing. p.210. ISBN 978-0-8112-1857-3 . Retrieved 31 May 2013. Yes, yes," said Tsoutsou, clapping his hands, "that's the wonderful thing about America: you don't know what defeat is." He filled the glasses again and rose to make a toast "To America!" he said, "long may it live!" Note: "Within my mouth you have enjailed my tongue, doubly portcullised with my teeth and lips..." William Shakespeare, Richard II.) Fortunately her husband reappeared at this point with the post-cards which he had given a dry-cleaning.”

On an idyllic Greek island, the garden of sixties icon Leonard Cohen inspires a poet to question and ultimately celebrate the meaning of his own life. English poet Roger Green left the safety of God, country, and whiskey to immerse himself in an austere and sober life on the Greek Island of Hydra. But when Green discovered that his terrace overlooked the garden of sixties balladeer Leonard Cohen, he became obsessed with Cohen’s songs, wives, and banana tree. Hydra starts with a poem the author wrote and recited for his fifty-seventh birthday (borrowing the meter of Cohen’s “Suzanne,” and ripe with references to the song), with Cohen’s ex-partner Suzanne, who may or may not be the subject of Cohen’s song, in the audience. By turns playful and philosophic, Green’s unconventional memoir tells the story of his journey down the rabbit hole of obsession, as he confronts the meaning of poetry, history, and his own life. Beginning as a poetic meditation upon Leonard Cohen’s bananas, Green’s bardic pilgrimage takes the reader on various twists and turns until, at last, the poet accepts the joy of accepting his fate. It is not enough to overthrow governments, masters, tyrants: one must overthrow his own preconceived ideas of right and wrong, good and bad, just and unjust. We must abandon the hard-fought trenches, we have dug ourselves into and come out into the open, surrender our arms, our possessions, our rights as individuals, classes, nations, peoples. A billion men seeking peace cannot be enslaved. We have enslaved ourselves, by our own petty, circumscribed view of life. It is glorious to offer one's life for a cause, but dead men accomplish nothing. Life demands that we offer something more—spirit, soul, intelligence, good-will. Nature is ever ready to repair the gaps caused by death, but nature cannot supply the intelligence, the will, the imagination to conquer the forces of death. Nature restores and repairs, that is all. It is man's task to eradicate the homicidal instinct which is infinite in its ramifications and manifestations. It is useless to call upon God, as it is futile to meet force with force.” But it was Miller the poet and peacemaker who, I now think, made me reflect most. The fight, he said, was not against disease or poverty or even tyrants. These were just the symptoms of bad thinking. Nothing could prepare him for what he encountered in Greece, neither the streets of New York, nor the streets of Paris - as both paled in comparison. Although enamored with France, Miller's passion for Europe goes way farther in this book, which at times reads more like L. D. novel than Miller's own.