Angelica's Grotto is a pornographic website into which seventy-two-year-old art historian Harold Klein wanders one evening. Klein, a walking catalogue of infirmities, known to medical consultants as 'he who declines to hop the twig', may not be up to much physically but there's a lot of sex going on in his head. 'You're a tiger from the neck up, Professor,' says Melissa, the brains behind the website, when at last Klein faces the object of his desire. Harold first visits Angelica's Grotto after losing his 'inner voice', that censoring mechanism that keeps us from blurting out the first thing that pops into our heads and finding ourselves in Casualty as a result of it. Harold consults a therapist about this new lack of mental privacy and also has one-to-one onscreen dialogue in the Grotto. 'If I had an inner voice I wouldn't be telling you all this,' he explains to the as-yet-unmet Melissa. But when the flesh-and-blood Melissa and her large and well-hung colleague Leslie enter his life he finds it's good to keep the angina medicine at the ready. Harold Klein's odyssey takes him not only through erogenous zones but into various corners of the London art world, down the underground and up the buses.
Russell Conwell Hoban was an American expatriate writer. His works span many genres, including fantasy, science fiction, mainstream fiction, magical realism, poetry, and children's books. He lived in London, England, from 1969 until his death. (Wikipedia)
If you are a 72-year-old art historian and have the hots for an unpleasant 28-year-old researcher and owner of a sociological pornographic website, this book is brimming with tips to make her fall under your geriatric sway. If talking to the escaped voice in your head under your breath doesn’t win her over, try stalking her and selling one of your expensive paintings to fund her misandrist study of male incompetence, and she is far likelier to let you perform cunnilingus on her for free (without any hint of love or respect). Hoban’s novel of senior citizen lust (written by Hoban around the same age) is at times an interesting exploration of a wayward man’s complex emotional history (i.e. wreckage), and at other moments a somewhat embarrassing “sexy” novel with some awkward scenes that make Nicholson Baker’s sleazy forays seem prudish.
Winter is coming; in November there's always a big rain that leaves the trees black and bare. This is the November of me - there's no getting away from that. Sometimes I go to a bookshelf and stand there with my hand outstretched, not knowing what I came there for.
So says Harold Klein, the protagonist in this story. He's 75, an art historian, with serious cardiac issues. He has lost his inner voice, which somehow makes him blurt out loud whatever he's thinking. Which is why the novel opens with this line from his psychiatrist: 'What happened to your nose?'
Meanwhile he's writing another book: Naked Mysteries: The Nudes of Gustav Klimt. Researching this topic on the internet he of course wanders to a pornography site, the eponymous Angelica's Grotto. It's, uh, interactive. Sexual dialogue turns into real sex, of sorts. Some readers will be offended by the violent nature of some of the sex (rape fantasy, for example) or the racial element Hoban introduces. Others might do a reader's blush at the juvenile writing of the sex scenes.
Still, through Klein, we see a balance between the scholarly and the tawdry: Pornography dehumanizes women; Klimt explores their humanity. Like this (you must be 18 or older to read the spoiler):
Now I'd like to get back to the passage with which I opened this review, the last part. Sometimes the enjoyment, even the understanding of a book can only be explained in context. In sequence, I went to my bookshelves and picked up a book about Custer and the battle of Little Bighorn and then a Percival Everett book about the African-American experience. Then this. You would think these books had nothing in common, were fundamentally disparate. But as I was reading this book by Hoban I felt as if I was still reading Everett. It felt like the same snappy dialogue, same wordplay, same wit. As when Klein is told to Please, go have your Alzheimer's somewhere else, or when he's out walking and sees this:
VIRGIN STATUE WEEPS, said the headline at the newsstand outside the station. 'As well it might,' said Klein.
And glib wisdom: Never bet on a Jewish horse; they think too much.; and poetic wisdom, too: Every hour wounds. The last one kills.
My feeling aside though, both Everett and Hoban introduce Charlton Heston as a character. What are the coincidental chances?
But modern porn sites and Custer? Glad you asked. When Custer would go into battle, he would intone: Hoka-Hey! It's a great day to die! And here, when Klein is about to do something incredibly stupid, he similarly intoned: Hoka-Hey! It's a great day to die!
So, Hoka-Hey, and remember: Each of us has an Angelica chained to a rock threatened by an Orca, and waiting for a Ruggiero.["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>
This is a sort of coming-of-age novel, except that the protagonist is in his seventies. So maybe it's a going-of-age novel. Throughout his life, Harold's inner voice, his thinking voice, has occured in words. One day, he loses his inner voice, or rather, it becomes an outer voice. He can't think without words, and he can't do it silently. When this first happens, he finds himself in the emergency room a couple of times after accidentaly insulting people. As the novel goes on, with the help of a therapist and an internet porn site, he explores his identity, his sense of self, his hopes and dreams.
I wonder why there aren't more novels on the subject of existential crises featuring older characters. There is quite a bit of expicit sex stuff, but none of it is actually erotic, in fact the the sex stuff is almost bureaucratic (and it's in all caps, which is terribly annoying).
I think I had put the sequel to this, Angelica Lost and Found, on my to-read list after reading a review in the TLS, and if I remember correctly, the review suggested that one could skip Angelica's Grotto and go straight to the more interesting sequel. But the library didn't have the sequel, and they had this one, so I figured I might as well, since it had an interesting premise. Probably not for everyone.
Can't come up with much more than 'Not as terrible as I feared, but not really that great, either.' Lots of great little Hoban bits (that's what she said), but like with Angelica Lost and Found (not a sequel) all the different themes and images aren't really woven together, altho there's some interesting stuff going on under the surface about the unspoken, the unspeakable and the Internet. It's OK with bumps until the ending, when the book goes completely off the rails.
I like books about not very likeable people, and this was one of those. That said, intellectually the story of Harold Klein at 70 something having an identity crisis and getting involved with a sex researcher/porn site manager was satisying, but I kept waiting for something more to materialize, not sure what. Wasn't disappointed in the ending, it seemed logical.
Undecided if folks involved in pansexual, polyamorous, BDSM situations are immature, troubled and sad, or freer and more evolved.
What an odd book! I actually had trouble reading it despite the subject matter. At times I wondered where it was going. The saving grace was the end. A very different read.
A book that had been sitting on my shelf for some time (probably since I finished reading "Turtle Diary" in 2013). The story and characters kept my interest.
This novel is about a rather sad old man who yearns for some fun and adventure in his life and he finds it through an internet porn website. I love Russell Hoban's books and this one is no exception. I love his interest in art which he always manages to bring in to his story lines one way or the other. They're always fun and he shows how vulnerable us human beings are.
I liked almost everything about this novel except the ending. The main character, an old codger named Harold, is very well done. He is amusing, off-beat and touching. And I liked the way the relationship between him and the sex researcher develops. The writing, in parts, is excellent. Also, the book is set in London, and it's nice to read a novel by an author who obviously knows the city well. I got the feeling that Hoban couldn't come up with an ending that he really liked, so instead of doing more thinking about it, he simply killed off his characters. The first murder seemed ridiculous, contrived and unnecessary, and then the second one seemed silly. The ending diminishes the rest of the book, and I wish the author had carried through on his premise and created a more believable and worthy finish.
Whoa! A challenging story for an aging boomer male to read and bear with, but worth persistence. "Angelica" herself never quite came to life for me, and the heavy reliance on some (to me formerly unknown) 20th century mystical art thinned the experience for be a bit, but the issues of an aging man's sexuality sure are real enough and provocatively explored. Russell Hoban's out there fighting the painful fight.
Russell Hobal wrote two of the most magical novels ever: "Riddley Walker" and "Pilgermann." These books float through my daydreams and changed the way I think of language. They had humor and horror.
"Angelica's Grotto" sucks. It's about an old man discovering Internet porn and it doesn't transcend that premise.
A challenging confronting read that can help you reconcile who you are, why you are who you are, and why your parents and siblings are the way they are. Hopefully it leads to more compassion for each others foibles and eccentricities. It did for me. Will it make you a better parent? Fingers crossed, but maybe the opening stanza on the opening page will always ring true.
I've seen a few other readers who have expressed a certain dissatisfaction with the ending of this novel. Not wishing to in any way spoil it, all I'm going to say is that I found it extremely appropriate. A fine read that I suspect will benefit from further reads