Crazy Cock is Henry Miller's third full length novel and it tells the tale of the triangle between Henry, June and Mara Andrews (aka Jean Kronski). The novel is not very well written, filled with pedantic, prolix and baroque passages, as Miller struggles mightily to find his voice. Miller fans will find this work quite interesting, as it is another variation on The Rosy Crucifixion. However, this book is definately not a good place to start your journey through the works of Henry Miller, as there are many better places to begin (Tropic of Cancer, Air Conditioned Nightmare) your journey.

a prelude to te tropic novels. a journey to the buildup to the better books afterwards

Miller is undeniably one of the literary giants. This is a wonderful and enlightening insight into his sourjorn to that height. It's far from perfect, but to any hardcore Miller fan it will be a treat. They will get a real sense of "the master" chipping away at the almost singular stone that would forever be his muse.

I loved Erica Jong and FOF, but was really disappointed with this book.

She is still wondering why she hasn't found her "one true love." Isadora has become sort of pathetic, really. She mistakes hedonism with happiness, like a 400-pound binge eater with heartburn hoping another bag of cookies will make them feel light and energetic again.

But in this case she sleeps with anything in pants, drinks and uses drugs and wonders why her so-called "relationships" don't last. If she didn't seem to take herself so seriously I would think that was the lesson in the book.

It is so rare to read follow-on novels that are in fact better than the original bestseller and continuing to improve. This one is perhaps even better - certainly more mature - than How to Save Your Life. I still think that for a hilarious and yet sad reflection of the pre-Aids 1970s and early 1980s, Jong is simply our best novelist. The psychology, the needs, the pain, and the ironies are so realistically and touchingly rendered that I found myself completely believing in the character. It is a first-rate effort and a pity that it is out of print.

While this is yet another novel about divorce and the search for both perfect love and always-spectacular sex, the protagonist has grown into a kind of world weariness along with her concerns on how to bring up her daughter. While she is still willing to experiment with guacomole in the nether regions, it is about entering middle age, with the baggage that so many of us carry, and yet keeping one's idealism and hope alive. The passages on her ex-husband are divinely insightful and comic, from his inability to become independent of powerful parents (and how that hinders his own creative development); I still chuckle about her exmother-in-law - in her quip "at least she's s nice girl" - "demolishing" both her son's new girlfriend and his ex-wife in one sentence. (Isadora "marvelled" at her effiecincy.)

Highest recommendation.

The problem with Erica Jong's popularity is that so many white males (John Updike, Anthony Burgess, etc.) welcomed her book 'Fear of Flying'. On the other hand, without crediting those white males with any real discernment of feminist daring, let's remember that it was such people who got the book on the best seller list. Jong is infinitely more talented than those writers, but this book seems to be unable to articulate this simple truth. Let's remember, then, that it is clueless white males who advocate books by George Orwell, John Steinbeck, etc. Erica Jong is courageous and challenges eurocentric patriarchy, something those other writers did not do, and are now irrelevant because of it. Besides which, Jong isn't really *all that* radical a feminist anyway. She has been trivialized by being afflicted with white male enthusiasm, but no one can forget that her books are momentous because they are so individual, as all Women are.

It is very hard to follow Jung's logic. Her book jumps around like a bunge cord, never staying long enough to explain her unsupportable conclusions. Most distressing is her apologetic acceptance of the behavior of the President. In fairness, there are some amusing parts.

This book of essays does hold your attention. You may not like her point of view, but you'll have to give her credit for being honest about it. She covers it all in bits and pieces, the only clue to what they all have in commom is the title. Having sex is very important to her, and I found this theme tiring after a while. She does present herself as what I'd call a typical New Yorker. She seeks to impress the reader with her life, and it comes off sometimes as bragging. I'm a fan of Henry Miller so I enjoyed her first hand impression of him - they must have been soulmates, seeking sexual experiences where ever they could find them. I can see why given her point of view she feared fifty as it gets harder to attract strangers - so I may read more of her yet. If you're a writer you'll probably be interested in her struggles as an author and mother.

This book is more entertaining and likeable than I expected. Jong's honesty is admirable. She readily admits she didn't become pregnant till she could afford a nanny; most celebrities pretend they raised their children with no help. I liked the essay Lolita at Thirty best and also her views on Jane Eyre are very acute. Her literary criticism is the best thing in the book. Surprisingly erudite and sharp. Her essay on Anais Nin made me want to read the journals which I never have. She's at her least appealing when trying to show how wordly she is , i.e. 'My Italy' where she does an awful lot of name dropping as if all the famous people she knows validate her own imporance. Her daughter, Molly, wrote an article for Mode magazine where she related how her mother's friend, Joan Collins, called her fat. I wouldn't be surprised if Erica didn't drop Joan, for all her cruelty, simply because she's a celeb.