Campbell Scott's narrative style has a unique stamp. His baseline technique in Tropic of Cancer is the dampening of his voice, joined with a masterly expressive control that emanates from this restriction. The effect is a quite strong sense of, and control over, mood and an intimate narrative connection with the individual listener. Scott's approach is suggestive of sotto voce, literarily "under speaking", similar to that bit of news spoken by a friend through a cupped hand in lowered tones into your ear in the Age of iPod, the narrator speaking through your earphones. Scott moves fluently from this baseline into the very lively stuff of Miller's tropes, riffs and rhetoric, and comically charmed outrages. Scott hits the marks, even as a tonal resonance of intimate communication remains constant. And Henry Miller's narrative voice? George Orwell observed, in his 1940 essay "Inside the Whale", "Read him for five pages, ten pages, and you feel the peculiar relief that comes not so much from understanding as from being understood. 'He knows all about me,' you feel. 'It is as though you could hear a voice speaking to you...with no humbug in it, no moral purpose, merely an implicit assumption that we are all alike.'"
With their production of Tropic of Cancer, Harper Audio and Campbell Scott have reached an elusive artistic benchmark: that point where the voice of the author and the voice of the narrator converge. David Chasey
©1961 Grove Press, Inc.; (P)2008 HarperCollins Publishers
This is the same narrator for many audiobooks I've purchased. Initially, his voice sounds very monotone and boring but after a while it flows. I think this one is very well done. I tried to read this book several times in my life, but the audiobook makes it much easier to digest, listening to it 30 minutes here... 30 minutes there. on the way to work, while going to bed, etc. Great book.
"... there are times when silence is a poem." - John Fowles, the Magus ^(;,;)^
“When into the womb of time everything is again withdrawn chaos will be restored and chaos is the score upon which reality is written.”
This is one of those amazing books that does violence to your system (think Lolita, Naked Lunch, Ulysses) but still leaves you gobsmacked by its brilliance. IT is the brazen, tortured soul of a man going through an existential crises in Paris. The novel is a cry in the dark; a delirious shout in the void. Miller's prose dances on the edge of the cracked mirror of Modernism. It is dazzling, sharp and extremely dangerous.
This is NOT a novel for the weak, the timid, the easily shocked or those that believe art exists (or should exist) without shadows. Miller lifts the sheets and describes the decay, the despair and the rot of humanity. If you are not prepared for the monstrous vision of Miller you won't be able to find the roses in the dung heap, and thus you will be unable to question your own desire for roses in the first place.
I had read this decades ago. I wasn't all that impressed. But hearing it read aloud makes the poetry come through. There is a lot of musing on life and Paris and friends: and that is lovely to listen to. There really isn't any plot, just some extended narrative and a few anecdotes. I thought the narrator did a good job of playing the observer that Henry Miller was. My only complaint was that it needed more chapter breaks.
You have to know what you're getting into with Henry Miller as his works may at times come across as utterly tasteless. For some people (myself incl.) those moments make me laugh so much I cry! Not a book to necessarily delve into in public places...but this author has a lexicon that is true genius.
Kelly, Aussie living in Nashville, Employment Specialist, Writer & so on
Not entirely - only for the purpose of listening to it in my car.
Van Norden's tirade about microphones in his trousers
No I haven't. Even though I like Campbell Scott as an actor and enjoyed his narration, I didn't feel that it matched what I expected, which was more of a Brooklyn accent.
Mona stood out for me, as she was like a ghost, weaving in and out of the story. (Mona was based on Miller's second wife June - who was also like a ghost in his life). The other characters, including Henry, are quite sordid and hopeless.
Paris and the left bank, in the early 1900's, was often romanticized, and for the most part - rightly so. With 'Tropic of Cancer' though, you get it warts and all - the bed bugs, lice and cockroaches - the poverty, sleeping on straw, moldy cheeses and breads, rancid butter etc. The pendulum also swings to the other side where you have the 'swanky' side of life, the prostitutes, the sex, the great meals. You also have to wade through crap like women being referred to as 'c*nts' - however - believe me, it's worth it for the rhapsodizing and for the history. It's interesting, funny, has great dialogue and is a kind of sordid classic!
It seems more an essay than a story. Relationships between souls but more frequently bodies with crude descriptions. There does not seem to be a backbone throughout the story maybe perhaps sex and poverty. For me no "veni vidi vici" but heard I have....now Makes me wonder if all famous writers are worth catching up with ;-)
About the reading, what can I say? I love the deep voice but the French names and words (the action takes place in Paris) are a clear struggle for Mr. Scott and it spoils some of the pleasure.
Yes Miller's books for a while. Maybe I'll venture it again but not soon
I don't expect the narrators to master the foreign words often found in English books but I expefct them like an actor to learn to speak them out so event the native understands.
None a book needs to be unabridged - everytime.
I wish the reader would make some research before tackling this book and if foreign languages are read, at least narrators should master the pronunciation.
Supposedly this is an important work due to it's obscenity troubles etc. but aside from that, I didn't find it all that well written, I was not engaged by the characters, and ultimately I felt it was not worth the time and very over-rated. There is nothing here that I don't fell isn't better done by Nabokov, Joyce, Hemingway, etc. Can't recommend it nor do I intend to listen to more Miller if/when it becomes available. My time is better spent elsewhere.
Miller has talent, no one denies that. But dear, sweet Jesus why waste it on this smut? I didn't read any reviews prior to buying, so the fault is mine. I just don't know why this is on so many top 100 lists.
I have, The Shining by Stephen King. Awesome pick for that one. This time he came off a a bit monotonous.
the book has been bestowed so much praise already that nothing more can be said about it. it is simply perfect.
the narration on the other hand leaves MUCH to be desired. campbell scott has managed to deflate and take out the life of what is a joyful and celebratory book.
his monotone, droning voice is diametrically opposed to what the work is about. he brings a dour, somber, and exhausted tone to something that should be vibrant and alive. i imagine that henry miller would probably just want to punch him in the mouth.
what a waste of brilliant piece on such a poor narrator. after listening to Jeremy Irons ecstatic and euphoric read of Lolita this is a definite letdown.
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