I thought sexus was really funny and wild hearted, and this next book isn't really either. Plexus has hundreds of pages of Miller telling boring stories and long winded opinions and outdated analysis of the world and all that, and basically this huge book should have been about 200 pages instead of 600. Most of the time I kept thinking "Okay, Henry...stop telling old man stories and get back to the damn storyline in the book!"

This book (this whole trilogy) is not for everyone. Before anyone considers reading this, they should first check "Tropic of Cancer" - probably twice. Once done, consider picking this up. Only pick it up if you loved "Tropic." Personally, I found the trilogy a lot harder to digest and a lot slower going. Conversely, I found it times more rewarding. If you feel like you have something to offer the world that has yet to be realized, this is the book for you. It will give you hope. In his darkest moment, Miller is able to funnel all of his sadness, rage, pain, heartbreak, etc., and somehow smile through it. For the dissatisfied soul, trudging through these tomes is like finding a friend you never dreamed of. If you're happy with the way things are and life is satisfying - god bless you. Keep doing whatever you are and find some other book to read. There are thousands out there that you will get more out of. If you feel stuck, however, these books should give you courage. Read them and act on them. As Miller will show you, there is nothing to lose, and we all have it in us.

Miller represents the torment of many aspiring artists and writers: his insight into the human soul as he sees it and his ability to craft words to illuminate this insight are remarkable. Yet in spite of this mastery, he still writes with a profound sense of humility and suffers in his own miserable imperfections. He is hopelessly in love with a woman he knows is a liar and a cheat; he assails his own failure to provide for himself in a dignified way; he struggles with the validity of his personal friendships. In the midst of all this anxiety swirling within the deep intellect is a sincere and almost childlike love of life and decadence which he refused to deny himself even in the most impoverished times.

The final pages of Plexus define for the reader what is meant by "The Rosy Crucifixion." (If they haven't already figured it out by then.) To relate to the message is the key to the trilogy. If it moves you to tears, consider throwing away your own cosmococcic baggage and start off to something of a higher order of blissful, ecstatic and painful life.

I find some of Henry Miller's books to be wonderful and some to be mediocre or downright boring ("Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch," for instance). This book, however, certainly ranks among the wonderful. Any bibliophile or Henry Miller fan (as I am) will find here a treasure of insight relating to books and Henry Miller and other important things. All of Miller's books are essentially about himself and his experience of life, and this one is no exception. As he states in the preface: "The purpose of this book...is to round out the story of my life. It deals with books as a vital experience."

Miller seeks to revive the meaning of books which inspired him and his development as a writer. He goes back to his childhood and talks about his experiences with the Greek plays, "Robinson Crusoe," Rider Haggard, G.A. Henty, and to his youth and Paris years with his reading of Nietzsche, Doestoievsky, Whitman, Balzac, Celine, Cendrars, Rimbaud, Rabelais and others. He dedicates a chapter each to his two French contemporaries, Cendrars and Giono. Blaise Cendrars (born Frederic Sauser) is one of his great literary heros, a man who wrote tons of books of virile autobiographical prose (and poetry, unlike Miller) but seems still rather unknown. Jean Giono lived his whole life in the French provinces, was a pacifist, and wrote on themes concerning nature and humanity. Like Miller, he was only concerned with "la gloire d'etre vivant".

Two other chapters are dedicated to Krishnamurti and Rider Haggard. The chapter on Krishnamurti reveals somewhat Miller's penchant towards the mystical and themes of emancipation and liberation. In the chapter on Rider Haggard Miller expresses the enthusiam and wonder he felt reading Haggard's mystical tale "She" as a boy. He then goes on to "speak of certain revelations concerning my own character and identity which are connected to it." Here Miller questions himself, "why the emphasis, in my works, on crude repetitious experience of life?" and associates Haggard's fictional heroine, Ayesha, with Miller's first wife and inspiration, June: "How very much there was of 'She' in 'Her'...Why, do we not sometimes ask ourselves, why the fatidical beauty in the great heroines of love throughout the ages? Why do they seem so logically and naturally surrounded by death, bolstered by crime, nourished by evil?".

Miller also has much to say on philosophy, art, education, and simply on "how to read and why," to use the title of one of literary critic Harold Bloom's books. On at least one important point, though I suspect on very many points (including the whole idea of Bloom's "The Western Canon"), Miller would take issue with Bloom and his type; he writes: "And this leads me to say how woefully mistaken are those who believe that certain books, because they are universally acknowledged as 'masterpieces,' are the books which alone have power to inspire and nourish us. Every lover of books can name dozens of titles which, because they unlock his soul, because they open his eyes to reality, are for him the golden books. It matters not what evaluation is made of these by scholars and critics, by pundits and authorities: for the man who is touched to the quick by them they are supreme. We do not ask of one who opens our eyes by what authority he acts; we do not demand his credentials." Miller would certainly agree with Oscar Wilde's witty remark: "Oh, it is absurd to have a hard and fast rule about what one should read and what one shouldn't. More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn't read."

This wonderful book has had a tremendous impact on my reading and on my life, mainly because of the list Henry put at the end almost as an afterthought: "The Hundred Books That Influenced Me Most". I have been slowly buying and reading these books, many of which I had never heard of (and/or never heard of the authors). In every single instance, they have been remarkable, incredible, mind-blowing, life-changing, and stupendous. The book itself is great fun, and written with Miller's usual masterful command of language, however I must caution prudes to stay away. His storytelling muse it at the height of its powers here, as he recounts his encounters with books, authors, bookshops and women, not necessarily in that order. It is compelling to hear of how Miller's love affair with books began, gained momentum and turned into a lifelong obsession. I recommend this book to you with the greatest possible enthusiasm. Have fun with it!

The reviews below sound as if they were hastily typed by angry homosexuals in a pique that no one appreciates their framed college degrees.

An interesting and nostalgic reminiscence of Henry Miller's early days in Paris.
Miller seemed cold and detached, a poor writer, yet gave all his money to a stranger, a cool, French prostitute, who left him alone with hunger in the middle of the night, a hunger that pushed him to search for food from his garbage can, a desperate and heartbreaking search. This vivid description of his wild search and miserable discovery is striking, emotional, absurd, dazzling.
This is not the most fascinating book, yet it is a pleasure to read it. It is charming, fresh, original, direct, moving, very masculine, strong and humble at the same time.
"Tropic of Capricorn" is a more remarkable and unforgettable book.

In "Quiet Days in Clichy," Henry Miller tells the story of Joey, an American writer living in Paris with his roommate Carl, who is also a writer. Amidst bouts of poverty, the two have a series of erotic and romantic encounters with a diverse procession of women: a runaway teen, a Danish widow, and other lusty, strange, and/or tragic characters.

Miller skillfully evokes the seedy side of Paris, with its prostitutes and cafes. His prose is clear and direct; he portrays the sex scenes with graphic confidence. The book as a whole has a loose, episodic feel.

I was intrigued by Miller's irreverent, rather ironic presentation of writers and writing in "Quiet Days." Overall, I enjoyed this book: Miller writes with an earthy energy, and his story is punctuated by striking glimpses of human longing and frustration.

According to notes in the text, "Quiet Days" was written in New York City in 1940 and revised in Big Sur in 1956. The book would, I believe, make an interesting complement to some of the poetry of Charles Bukowski (I'm thinking specifically of his volumes "What Matters Most Is How Well You Walk Through the Fire" and "Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument [...]").

This is one of Miller's shorter works and an excellent companion piece to the earlier books set in Paris. While the sexual content is unmistakably Miller, it is not as lascivious as say, the series "The Rosy Crucifixion", but offers profound sensory images of the period. It's like actually being there. "Quiet Days" was made into a film with Miller's consultation and won an award at the Cannes Film Festival. There is an earlier Grove (Evergreen Black Cat) movie tie-in edition. The book highlights the life of the literally often starving writer and his constant search for food, a few francs, and his frolics amongst French prostitutes. In terms of literary value, it falls short of the "Tropic" and New Directions titles, but is a must for every Miller fan. Vintage Miller, originally composed in the early 40s and re-written at Big Sur circa 1956.

This book is commendable for its conception but is flawed in its premise and execution. The problem is there are too many fingers in the pie. I would have liked to read about one historian's perspective on all the films reviewed. Instead, each film was addressed and compared to historical recollections by a different author. There is no uniformity of thought or perspective. For instance, I am sure that if Stephen Ambrose had reviewed TORA! TORA! TORA! he may have seen that film in a much more favorable light than did Akira Iriye. One can speculate to infinitum. It is possible to find and read countless books on a given historical topic. The point I am making is that each author has the ability to bring different perspectives or interpretations of historical record that may result in different conclusions of events or more importantly ideas. If you were to ask an auditorium full of historians what was the most important factor contributing to the start of the Civil War I am sure you may get at least five good answers. Perhaps the idea that a film conveys is more important than the accuracy of each step that led to that idea. I think that SPARTACUS is an important film not as a representation of a historical record but for the idea that the inherent rights of human beings to live free is a notion worth dying for. Kirk Douglas as SPARTACUS stated something to the effect that he would never stand by and see two men battle and die just for the amusement of other men. There is something very noble about that statement and to the visuals on the screen that precipitated that assertion. To touch a chord of emotion from the audience is really the magic of the cinema. I never once ever thought that the purpose of the cinema was to teach history. For the audience the main purpose of the cinema is to be entertained and if you take it a few more steps perhaps come away with an idea or spark of imagination. That's the beauty of the cinema.

This is a very interesting and useful book but I don't exactly like the overall point of view that it takes on motion pictures. It takes many historically based films and critiques them by comparing what is on the screen to actual historical events. Each chapter is devoted to one film (in most instances) and is critiqued by a different authority. The one constant that I see running throughout this book is that history does not make for good motion pictures if you are gazing through the eyes of the historian. That disturbs me. Motion pictures are a business as well a legitimate art form. If a historically based movie gets your interest as well as entertains you then perhaps that movie has fulfilled its purpose. The movie is the catalyst. It is up to you to dig up the history book and see what was recorded. And if you dig up a second history book it is very possible that those same events may be recorded slightly different. I liked the critique by Sean Wilentz on "THE BUCCANEER: Two Films" where he states that they stand somewhere in between fact and fiction. Akira Iriye is too critical of TORA! TORA! TORA! When you recall that particular motion picture, that's the one that stands out as a film that tried to get all the facts correct. Americans and Japanese respective of their home countries directed it. Iriye's criticism is almost ludicrous trying to state that inflections in the voices of some of the actors actually distorted the true meaning of their words. In light of PEARL HARBOR (2001) Akira Iriye is way off mark. Marshall De Bruhl's words about THE ALAMO are redundant and superficial. THE ALAMO was John Wayne's screen fulfillment of the legend. THE ALAMO is a great American film and it perpetuates that legend till this day. I liked what Stephen E. Ambrose had to say about THE LONGEST DAY. Ambrose recognizes that half the duality of filmmaking is a business. His approach and comments are very insightful and well written. As seen by James H. McPerson GLORY comes off best. It deserves it. "PAST IMPERFECT" is a good book but I just wish there were more input from the filmmakers.

When you're both a student of history and a movie buff, as I am, it can be difficult to sit and watch a film that presumes to have an accurate historical context without fighting the urge to evaluate it and pick holes in it. And I'm not the only one. This is a collection of analytical essays, most of high quality, by experts (not all of them historians) analyzing and critiquing individual films: Stephen Jay Gould on _Jurassic Park,_ Antonia Fraser on _Anne of the Thousand Days,_ Thomas Fleming on _1776,_ Dee Brown on _Fort Apache,_ William Manchester on _Young Winston,_ and numerous others. Sticking to those films about which I have some knowledge of the historical events they claim to portray, most are right on the money. James McPherson, commenting on _Glory,_ points out that while the context and general atmosphere are very well done, and the costuming and so on are exact, there are still deliberate historical errors for the sake of drama; none of the soldiers in Col. Shaw's 54th Massachusetts were ex-slaves, for instance, all of them having been recruited from among the state's free black population. And Catherine Clinton does an excellent job taking the wind out of _Gone with the Wind_'s mythical sails. There's a great deal of good information and criticism here and it's a compliment to say that nearly any of these essays will start an argument.

I recommend this book for anyone who is interested in getting into Miller. There are many great examples of his works, without the commitment of an entire book. Henry really has a handle on what it means to be human.

if it was written by henry miller, it was written from the heart, making it a great work, automatically.

Jennifer, period 3

This is a review on The turn of the Screw and Daisy Miller by
Henry James. The turn of the Screw is a haunting ghost story of this woman that is a governess and moves into an old English mansion to care for two children Miles, and Flora. The governess start seeing things and she realizes that these people are not human but ghosts and she thinks that they are going to possess the children. This short novel is a horrifying classic ghost story that was actually not bad. The short novel of Daisy Miller is a tale of a governess on vacation with her family in Italy and she falls in deeply in love with her employer. This is a sad love story that Henry makes you use your imagination on. She is swept off her feet by her employer, Frederick Forsyth. But his suspicions about her friendship with an Italian man lead him, and the rest of society, to abandon her. Only after she is dead that he realizes her actions were spontaneous and out of generosity.That is my review on these short novels by Henry James.

esta obra es una novela de ambiguedades, no como otras novelas de henry james que son de ritmo lento y hasta medio aburridas, esta obra es rapida y su brevedad la hace mas deliciosa. al final quedamos con las dudas sobre lo que paso en la casa con los ninos y la maestra. solo nos queda imaginarnos que paso al final y mas alla... muy buena. LUIS MENDEZ

henry miller, although an okay writer and admirable in his rebellion against false values, has no business comparing himself to someone like arthur rimbaud. the reviewers who think this is some kind of masterpiece are pretty gullible, and it seems that miller had a talent for two things:fooling people into thinking that he was something special, and using obscure and derivative ideas lifted from other writers to deceive the pseudo-intelligentsia into believing that he discovered something original in his mostly unremarkable and notoriety-seeking life. miller may have talked a lot about empathy with outcasts and misfits, but he seems less a person who actually felt different than others so much as an avid reader who decided that he liked the fashionable and avant garde self image of the outsider, and so adopted it. ultimately, for all his muddled, fragmentary talk, miller's philosophy of life can be summed up in two words:"who cares?"

El Tiempo de los Asesinos es la biografía de Rimbaud escrita por Henry Miller. En las primeras páginas nos parece que el ego de Miller, brutal como una manada de bisontes salvajes, va a borrar de la escena Rimbaud, ya que Miller constantemente osa compararse a sí mismo con el escritor del que habla: Rimbaud pasó hambre, yo también; Rimbaud vagó en el desierto, yo también; Rimbaud vivió para escribir, yo también. Miller no tiene pudor. Pero poco a poco el tono va cambiando, y la obra, si se consigue superar la megalomanía del envidioso, te acerca al enigma de la vida del poeta hasta el punto de empujarte salvajemente a releerlo en cuanto puedas. Pero también te lanzas, a la vez, a leer a Miller. Otro ejemplo de este tipo de libro es la biografía de John Keats escrita por Julio Cortázar, en la que el gran cronopio se da total libertad y se pone iconoclasta para inventar algo jamás visto en el género. No hay mejor libro que ese para enteder a Keats, pero tampoco hay mejor libro para entender a Cortázar. Cortázar mismo había escrito un cuento, El Perseguidor, que es una magistral puesta en escena de los últimos tiempos de vida del saxofonista Charlie Parker. Leer ese cuento dice más que cualquier biografía al uso sobre Parker, porque al mismo tiempo habla de la relación entre el artista y la vida, de la tragedia del verdadero creador. Una buena definición de escritor, o de artista en general, podría ser esta: aquel que envidia a la luz del día y que lo cuenta para purificarse. Aquel que disecciona a otro obsesivamente. Homero digerido por Keats digerido por Cortázar, y así hasta el fin... Quizá todo escritor sea un caníbal, y la cultura un gran atracón, regado de sangre embriagadora, que dure milenios.

Miller's provocative work describes the anguish of the poet and outsider, drawing parallels between his own life and that of the tortured Rimbaud. Miller paints a picture of Rimbaud as the quintessential rebel who sought truth through poetry, derangement of the senses, and exile to a harsh and unforgiving landscape. Miller blends topics such as death, the adventurous life and transcendence into one compelling narrative.

Other than the fact that the author had a good vocabulary and knew a lot of people whom he made reference to, this book was a waste of time. First of all, the author is descriptive and listing to the point of being utterly redundant about pointless subjects ex). " the past and the future converged with such great clarity and precision that not only friends and books but creatures, objects, dreams, historical events, monuments, streets, names of places, walks, encounters, conversations, reveries, half-thoughts, all came sharply into focus, broke into angles, chasms, waves, shadows, revealing to me in one harmonious, understandable pattern their essence and significance." Meaning, everything became clear to me as I saw an intricate but precise pattern and reason to all that is (through astrology). It would have saved me some time. Another ex) "The wealthy were as active as bees or ants, redistributing their funds and assets, their mansions, their yachts, their gilt-edged bonds, their mine holdings, their jewels, their art treasures." It would have made sense to be thoroughly descriptive at some points, but for throughout the novel it becomes unenjoyable and monotonous. Another problem with the book is that it leads to no true climax, it was like slowly been lead down a mildly sloping hill the entire time. And after reading the book I was expecting the ending to give some new bit of information that really tied things up and made the book work. There was no such thing, only a restatement of work was already known. The characters, for the most part just Moricand and Miller, were indistinguishable, except for Miller's friend Leon who had some personality vulgar, rude and aggressive, typically American. Eighty percent of book was Miller telling you what he thought about whatever, there was little action in the story so you had take his word for it , making the book very one sided, boring and predictable. There is absolutely no twists, surprises or anything, just a bunch of the authors tangents that are strung loosely together. I'd give this book a 3 out of ten. Unless your looking to improve your vocabulary or learn the names of a bunch of people you've never heard of before I wouldn't bother reading it.

Very slim book. A quick read. In just a few pages Miller successfully presents the comprehensive problem of dealing with something that outsiders perceive as being so easy--just get rid of that guest of yours.

Well, Miller had made an obligation, and knew what it mean to be needy. So, how does one simply say, "GET OUT!"? But more exciting is Miller's ability to give a sober, fair representation of the rude guest. It would have been so easy & bratty to present the guy as thoroughly rotten; but Miller gains credibility as an artist by delineating the complexity of a condition.

So, I disagree with a previous reviewer who took this book as a rant. No, no. Miller makes a huge effort to be fair to his nemesis. Rants are one-sided and uninteresting.

From page one of this book Henry Miller exacts his revenge on his unwelcome houseguest. This book is a superb rant, filled with some of Henry Miller's most brilliant and amusing caricatures. Henry Miller deftly swings between sweet admiration and praise for the object of his troubles, and outright disgust. Set in Big Sur, later in his life, it's a short, easy read, and doesn't contain the profanities that cause some people shy away from in Henry Miller's books. Highly Recommended for those who want to laugh out loud at Henry Miller's audacity and want to better understand HM's genius.

Like all writers who are ultra-realistic, Henry Miller definitely had a bent of surrealism and magic lying underneath his style. Check out such books as The Cosmological Eye to see that part of him in action. Unfortunately, most writers like Miller are never able to effectively embrace this part of themselves. They are too busy trying to get to the "truth" of human life and thereby do not want to be "unrealistic".

The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder is an example of Miller trying to get to realistic truth through unrealistic means. It was originally written as a story to be placed in a collection of circus and clown drawings by the artist Fernand Leger. It was later rejected by Leger, so Miller decided to publish it himself with his own crude but perfectly suited water paint illustrations.

The story is about a famous clown named Auguste who has become a prisoner of his own celebrity. Unlike most entertainers, he wishes not only to delight his audiences, but to bring them to an inner peace hitherto only realizable through God. He is a master of his trade but one day as he is sitting in front of his mirror, he realizes that he has no life outside of his career. This triggers an attempt to flee himself by wandering through the country anonymously, searching for the meaning of life.

While an admirable try, this short fable on the question of identity and purpose is not very effective. Its very brevity defeats Miller's usually rambling and wayward prose. If he had wished he could probably have made a Don Quixote type novel out of this story but Miller probably got frightened from making something so removed from his own experience and the inborn romanticism of its plot. He should have given it a try. This is a minor work. Seek out his Rosy Crucifixion to get Miller at his zenith.

I give everyone a copy of this I meet. Henry Miller does more in a few pages than most authors can do in a lifetime. I'm not even going to attempt to write down my thoughts on what all the symbolism means to me. I will just say this. Get 10 dollars out of your wallet and buy a classic. Whenever I am down I read Smile, when I'm really happy I read Smile. The blood trickling down his face.............

A German acquaintance loaned me her copy of this 1958 novel. "Read this," she said. "It's one of my all-time favorite books."

The "everyday world will one day become ours," Henry Miller (1891-1980) writes in the Epilogue to his truly sublime fable. "It is ours now, in fact, only we are too impoverished to claim it for our own" (p. 50). Miller's forty-page novel begins and ends with his clown protagonist, Auguste, smiling (pp. 3; 40), and it will leave you smiling on every page in between. Auguste cavorts "like a crazy goat" (p. 24), aspiring to "endow his spectators with a joy which would prove imperishable" (p. 5). On his hero's journey, he discovers a very important lesson: "To be yourself, just yourself, is a great thing" (p. 22). This is the central theme of Miller's short, but deeply profound novel. Miller's clown is a "poet in action," an emancipated being "untouched, unsullied, by the common grief" of the world (pp. 46-7). Drifting "unknown" and "unrecognized" among the millions he taught to laugh (p. 6), Auguste lives "in the moment, fully" with the radiance of a "perpetual song of joy" (p. 48).

G. Merritt

I read this book as a required text for a Masters program in Forensic Science. Having read the previous reviews on the book, I was not expecting a particularly good textbook, but I do not believe that the other reviews do justice to how totally worthless this book is. I feel obliged to write a review of my own to balance the scales, as it were.

First off, the comment regarding the numerous typographical and grammatical errors in the book is grossly understated. I cannot believe that this book ever saw an editor's desk. I have randomly opened the book to several pages, and quickly found the following sentences, which I believe should illustrate my point:

- Most importantly [sic] by keeping the suspect away from the scene, any physical evidence found at the scene that originated from the suspect will link the suspect to the scene only at the time of the crime and not from the suspect having been returned to the scene for identification by victims or witnesses. p.53 (grammatical error, poorly written and confusing)

- Access [sic] the type of scene, the boundary of the scene, and the personnel and equipment needed. p 58. (should read, 'assess')

There are others, as well - alas, I have forgotten the sentence I came across while reading for class that contained a minimum of 5 errors. Yes. One sentence.

My most significant complaint, however, is that the book is simply not thorough. This is primarily due to the fact that it appears to have been written for idiots - all the major areas are touched upon, but there appears to be a fear that tackling them in detail would confuse people. So, instead, each technique is mentioned only in passing, leaving the reader with only a very vague overview of what goes on at a crime scene. Any person actually practicing in the field of forensic science is bound to be disappointed by its lack of depth, detail, and 'new' material. This likely also applies to anyone who has read any other books on the subject, whether they are active in the field or not.

For those who are interested in the subject and looking for a much better primer, I would suggest Fisher's 'Techniques of Crime Scene Investigation,' instead. While he does not have the friendly or chatty writing style that Lee has (the only thing going for Lee's book, incidentally), he is significantly more thorough. The book is also more well-regarded in the field, based on everything I have heard. This is not to say that Lee does not have a prominent name in forensics - quite the contrary. But, I would hate to think that anyone would purchase this book on his name alone. He should stick to spoken lectures, at which he is quite excellent.

Very informative. Great details. It goes over everything that a person should know.

i will like to ricieve a copy of this book.