Philip Roth, Part IV

Sorry. In case you're wondering, I'm done, and have been for a while. I have already mentioned before how ridiculous it was to start with someone as prolific as Roth. In fact, he has a new book, Indignation, coming out in October. I'll read it when I get the chance and probably review it.

I'll do these all in quick succession. You might notice that pretty much all the books reviewed here border on straight up superlative--this was a man who had quite a winning streak later in life. It's been a pleasure, and immeasurably helpful in honing my honors thesis. I begin with the pseudo-continuation of the Zuckerman saga.

The Counterlife: Where this fits in the continuity spectrum of the Zuckerman novels is unclear; I get the impression that Roth never has really concerned himself with those issues, anyway. While the books that comprised Zuckerman Bound were essentially straightforward narratives with a fair amount of metatextual embellishment (such as the Anne Frank chapter in The Ghost Writer), The Counterlife is on a whole different level entirely. He experiments with the Zuckerman character using different fragments of narrative that often aren't elaborated upon or even referred to in the next chapter. A synopsis would be best served by addressing the individual chapters, but I don't think it's in your best interest for me to do so. Several aspects of Roth's work are worth talking about: for the first time, he takes on the gigantic subject of Israel, in a chapter where Zuckerman's brother leaves his family to join a fanatical Zionist kibbutz. The conversations that Nathan and his brother, Henry, have regarding the necessity and the foolhardiness of establishing the state of Israel strike me as being a far better attempt at political commentary than Our Gang. Some of the later chapters, which deal with anti-Semitism in Zuckerman's adopted England, seem less powerful, if only because I was shocked to find Roth aiming his vitriol at Christians, of all people. Not that they don't need it, but what sort of middle-ground is he suggesting, between fanatical Zionist bloodletting and a English passive-aggressive anti-Semitism? Zuckermanism, or something else none of us can subscribe to.

American Pastoral: And then, of course, is this beauty of a novel, which I have actually read before. It's often referred to as the "second" Zuckerman trilogy (The Prague Orgy counts as an appendix to the first one, and The Counterlife has no choice but to stand alone). What differs this trilogy from the previous one is that, while Zuckerman is once again the author, he takes a secondary role, instead choosing to highlight (and subsequently fictionalize) minor figures in his life and devise a way in which to make these lives reflect the tapestry of American social upheaval. American Pastoral is about "Swede" Levov, a Jewish Adonis and former sports hero who is the most fundamentally decent character I think Roth has ever created. He takes over his father's glove factory (leading to some brilliant exposition from Roth about the science of glove-making--you probably don't believe me but it is mind-blowing stuff), marries a former Miss New Jersey, and has a daughter. As good a husband and father as he is, he can't prevent his daughter from becoming increasingly radicalized by the situation in Vietnam, and she starts hanging out with unsavory, Weather Underground type characters. Eventually, she bombs a post office and kills someone, and subsequently vanishes. Seeing "Swede" Levov try to reconcile these feelings of paternal love with the knowledge that her daughter murdered someone is affecting, as is their final confrontation. I should add that their daughter, Merry, struck me as such a loathsome toolbag that it almost justifies the Vietnam war.

I Married A Communist: Once again, Zuckerman writes about a childhood figure, although ostensibly this time his recount of the life of the actor Ira Ringgold is less fictionalized than it is stratified through the minds of both Zuckerman and Ira's brother, who recounts about half of what goes on. This is often considered the weak link in the trilogy, and I agree with that assessment: Unlike Swede Levov and Coleman Silk, Ira Ringgold seems more of a victim not of the times but of his own pathetic attempts to stay attached to his communist ideology. Not that a great book couldn't be made out of this, and admittedly, it is filled with great stuff. While painted in broad strokes, Roth's depiction of the communist witch hunters is certainly entertaining and well thought out, although Roth has the habit of making all the enemies of communism by extension closet fascist sympathizers, with the exception of Ira's brother. Ira as a character still seems somewhat of a mystery, and his relationship with the young Zuckerman seems to be a tad on the convenient side: considering all that Zuckerman has been through, the fact that he never mentions this person before makes us wonder if Zuckerman isn't writing fiction again. As I stated before, I don't think that's something Roth is ever very concerned with.

The Human Stain: Almost unbearably emotionally resonant, in the manner of My Life as a Man and The Anatomy Lesson, this book packs quite a punch, even if Roth spends much of it attacking the shallowness and intellectual dishonesty of my age group (the "dumbest generation," Coleman Silk says at one point). Unlike the first two parts of the trilogy, this is set in the recent past, during the Clinton Whitewater hearings, and Roth makes much of how ridiculous it was that America was concerned with the sexual habits of the president. Against this backdrop, Roth tells the story of Coleman Silk, a neighbor of Zuckerman's and a professor at a small liberal arts college who gets kicked out for a supposed racial slur (he calls two students-- who happen to be black--spooks, referring to their continual absence from his classroom, not their race). The subsequent stress and disappointment ends up taking its toll on Silk's wife, so he implores Zuckerman to write his story. At first, Zuckerman refuses, but they become friends nonetheless. Silk, who is 71, starts having a torrid love affair with a 33-year old janitor whose life has been so tragic it verges on being a Chekhovian cartoon. All of this stuff is excellently told, and Roth easily manages to pull of the feat of having Zuckerman get in the minds of these different characters who don't even know who he is. While far from an impartial observer, Zuckerman manages to stay out of the fray until he is needed in the final sequence, which is quite a good one. This was made into a movie with Anthony Hopkins and Nicole Kidman, if you remember. This would seem at first like the least filmable of the trilogy, but I guess others disagree.

Exit Ghost: Roth's most recent book, and reportedly the last one to involve Nathan Zuckerman. This is probably a good thing, because after three straight books where he tried telling other people's stories, he has become self-involved to the point where he strikes me as being a bitter old phoney (sp?). Zuckerman, now in his 70s, is completely incontinent and impotent from prostate surgery, but is told that a possible cure is awaiting him in New York City. So, the reclusive Zuckerman travels to New York for the first time in several decades, and immediately starts kvetching about all the cell phones and iPods he sees. If anything, Exit Ghost is meant to mirror many of the themes and strands of the first Zuckerman book, The Ghost Writer. E.I. Lonoff is long dead, and a young hotshot writer tries to interview Zuckerman about his relationship with the writer, to be part of some sort of revelatory biography. In response, Zuckerman treats the young man like shit, vowing to go so far as to ruin his literary aspirations if he publishes this biography. Meanwhile, he starts having sexual feelings for a woman whose apartment he plans to rent for a year, feelings of course he cannot act upon due to his impotence. Meanwhile, he complains about how hard and humiliating it is to have to wear diapers, and the surgery doesn't do much to help him. This is a sad and very slight book, a bizarre end note to be sure. Zuckerman, towards the end of his life, no longer seems to be an interesting or enlightening character, but rather an old and disgruntled man furious about his impending death. It doesn't make for the most compelling reading.

Next: all of the Roth books, including The Facts: A Novelist's Autobiography, Deception: A Novel, Patrimony: A True Story, Operation Shylock: A Confession, and The Plot Against America (Why did Roth become so enamored with colons all of a sudden? Why have I?).