A Singular Man

by J.P. Donleavy

What will happen to George Smith?

Mysteriously rich and desperately lonely, George appears to be under attack from all quarters: his former wife and four horrible children are suing to get his money; his dipsomaniacal housekeeper is trying to arouse his carnal interest; and his secretary, the beautiful, blond Miss Tomson, will barely give him the time of day.

Making matters even worse are the threatening letters:

'Dear Sir:

Only for the moment are we saying nothing.

Yours, etc.,
Present Associates'

Despite such precautions as a two-inch-thick surgical steel door and a bulletproof limousine, Smith remains worried. So he undertakes to build a giant mausoleum, complete with plumbing, in which to live.

Genres: Fiction, American, Literature, Humor, Contemporary, Modern, Literary Fiction

352 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1963

About the author

James Patrick Donleavy was an Irish American author, born to Irish immigrants. He served in the U.S. Navy during World War II after which he moved to Ireland. In 1946 he began studies at Trinity College, Dublin, but left before taking a degree. He was first published in the Dublin literary periodical, Envoy.

See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J.P._Don...

Reviews

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

A sophomore novel of absurdities and crudities, a plotless rambling meander in the realm of a loathsome rich philanderer named George Smith. Donleavy’s narrative technique of mashing staccato third-person omniscient with internal monologue creates waves of bristling and vital prose, and thickets of nonsensical and irritating nonspecificness. The humour is more strained and wackier than The Ginger Man—a choice that ultimately makes this novel a chore to complete, as pleasurable are its first coupla hundred pp.

[Dead John Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is another book that had a profound influence on me when I was younger.

Just out of interest I recently went back and read it again.

It is easy to read this book as just about the content, malarky, high jinks, sex and wealth. But there is a poetic melancholia that runs underneath everything in this book. I think it was the first book that resonated within me as in someone had given a name to something that I had felt at the core of me ever since I can remember.

I feel a bit different these days, not much though, more that I’ve had years to get used to it. Reading it really took me back to my earlier self.

There are 2 other books by him that you could almost put in a trilogy, The others are:

The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B

A Fairy Tale of new York

[Judy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was on the fence about including Donleavy's second novel on my 1963 reading list. I guess it was seeing somewhere on the web that his first novel, The Ginger Man, was Hunter S Thompson's favorite book that decided me. I know that does not make much sense, being the raging feminist that I am, but I am also a bit of an intellectual anarchist plus I don't hate men.

So I read A Singular Man and it was good, maybe almost amazing. George Smith is another character, like Sebastion Dangerfeld in The Ginger Man, who just can't fit in with society's expectations in terms of what makes a good man. Is that the basis of my attraction to J P Donleavy? Could be. The misfit equation.

George is an orphan, a failed husband and father, a stupendously successful business man and lonely as hell. He has enemies in the business world and truthfully he is a pussy grabber. I know, I know.

The writing style is a bit odd. Part stream of consciousness, part William Burroughs/Henry Miller cut-up smut. But it works. As I followed George through a pathetic winter in early 1960s New York City, I began to feel empathy for the guy. I got sentimental about him and his troubles even as I was laughing at his misadventures and feeling sorry for the women in the story.

His mysterious, tragic and unattainable lover, Miss Tomson, is almost on the level of Wonder Woman if Wonder Woman wore mink, drank like a fish, and was fabulously rich and famous in one of her guises. That does not make much sense either, unless you read the book.

After the disaster of how The Power was received at a recent reading group meeting, I have given quite a bit of thought to the battle of the sexes. (I saw that movie the other night. Great!) I am coming, somewhat begrudgingly, to the conclusion that just about every human problem comes down to a failure of empathy.

Why do people do the things they do? We can never really know, but there is always a reason. (That doesn't mean we should elect certain people to run our country though.) It is with annoyance and humility that I admit that a man, J P Donleavy, has given me another nudge in the direction of empathy.

Glad I read A Singular Man. I will keep reading this author. I always thought he was Irish, but he was Irish/American and lived in the United States.

[Gary · Rating 2 out of 5]

Peculiar, not sure I've read a novel that switches from first to third person narrative so fluently, sometimes in the same sentence. The style is idiosyncratic too, with words dropped out of sentences as if at random, it reminded me at times of the poetry of John Berryman. The attitudes towards women in the book are archaic, or really I suppose it's the attitudes towards the interaction of men and women that seen fossilized now. The novel's message seems to boil down to men want to have sex without having to get married, whilst the female view is summed up as all men are just pricks and when you marry one you write your name on it, if you don't marry him he just stays a prick. I found the whole novel chaotic and inconsistent, a self indulgence at its heart.

[Alex Sarll]

Donleavy's great accomplishment in his second novel is to make the reader sympathise with one of the 1%. And it is sympathy, rather than envy. Everyone wants a piece of George Smith and, while he may have more cash than the average Donleavy lead, as well as the usual quota of impossible yearning, he seems lacking in some crucial quality - call it gumption? Thus rendered something of an eternal victim, without the lunatic vigour of a Schultz whereby to convert upward from passivity to heroism. For all his shagging and dubious dealings, I imagine there were saints much like him in spirit.

[alexander · Rating 3 out of 5]

The style is fun and there are good jokes, but it takes a long time to get into the rhythm of this book in order to really understand where it is all going.

Some great passages of George’s continual longing for Sally Tomson, much of the rest felt a little ethereal to my liking and was hard to really engage with, even though in the end I found it worth completing, but wouldn’t really recommend taking the time to others.

[Dennis Bolen · Rating 5 out of 5]

He has been, if not accused, suspected of writing the same book over and over. But this is the original J.P. Donleavy man-model, a joyous wastrel living on credit in any number of swank London hotels. Sometimes he changes residence in the middle of the night, the bills from Fortnum's mounting to an astonishingly unpayable level. That is the drama of Donleavy; the unfortunate price-tag of living a contemplative life and doing--and qualified for--little else.

There is so much fun in these pages; the writing is crafted with a care for the reader seldom found nowadays. This sixty-plus year-old work still entertains and enlightens, while describing a life likely not possible in this age of the venmo, the instant credit check, electronic hotel door-locks. Etc.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of the oddest of the late author's many odd novels. No one does urban sadness and desolation - the kind of unpopulated Saturday morning we all wish we'd never experienced - quite like Donleavy, and A Singular Man is studded with the tiny details that make life, love, loneliness so unbearable. Sally Tomson (a.k.a. Dizzy Darling) is one of 20th Century literature's great leading ladies and her existence on the page proves J.P.D. could easily shake off charges of misogyny and stereotyping when he wanted to. George Smith, the protagonist, however, is infuriatingly mysterious (just how does he earn a living and why does he find it impossible simply to tell Sally he loves her?) and some of the passages of Joycean stream of consciousness wear on the reader's patience - as does Donleavy's enduring pretence that question marks don't exist. The end-of-chapter lapses into poetry/haiku are some of his weakest and ultimately it doesn't all hang together as successfully as do A Fairy Tale of New York, Leila or The Onion Eaters.

[Beer Bolwijn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Put it down at page 270, because I just didn't care about what happened anymore. The style of writing was getting a little boring. A few weeks later I did complete it, for completeness' sake, but it didn't change my opinion much.

I wanted to read it after Dr Thompson's praisal. You can see the influence this has had on his writing. Not too sure about reading another of his recommendations.

When the erotic sequences are the most enthralling of the bunch, you know it's a mediocre piece. It wasn't really going anywhere or saying anything, nor being beautiful to read.

Hard skip to recommend this to anyone.

[Joe Testa · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the second book I've read by this guy. He is insane. His stories are amazing - wild, irreverent, hilarious, sad, perceptive.

Just read him.

[Sue Dounim]

On a recent rare late winter evening, sitting in my firelit cavernous library, a brace of Borzois at my feet, my fingers playing over the leather spines of my choice library, I happened upon the 24 inches or so of Donleavy's works that I so cherish. At random I drew down this novel, not having read it for lo these many decades. And what a delight it is again. To once again immerse myself in the wistful elliptical impressionistic sentence fragments of a truly unique writer.
I wonder what a younger reader can make of Donleavy. To me, his novels would be easily made into movies, perhaps even an HBO series or mini series. But I fear that my love of his work is just because I happened upon it in my solitary early years, where stereotypical adolescent poetic angst had unnaturally elongated into my 20s and even 30s.
I suppose you're either love him or hate him. I enjoy all his books, but try The Unexpurgated Code and Schultz first -- you'll know soon whether you want to immerse yourself further.

[Allan MacDonell · Rating 5 out of 5]

The 1960s were a prime time to be an experimental fiction craftsman, apparently, and if I’d read J. P. Donleavy’s A Singular Man when it came out at the end of 1963, I might have zipped through the dense, blurred, stiff and precise exercise in stylized vagueness in a hurry to move on to the next Donald Barthelme book. As it is, this novel consumed ten days that seemed like more. All the while, I was thinking Virginia Woolf did this better and sooner. A Singular Man’s titular male protagonist has achieved wealth in an unspecified way, is mailed absurd evaporating threats from indefinite antagonists, and exercises ill-conceived notions of how to conduct sexual relations with any woman who intersects his oblique, obtuse orbit. Mannerism, it seems, meant so much back then when delving into bad manners of the age.

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

More or less a stream of consciousness novel. If you like this style it's worth reading. But it is also very much a novel of a peculiar time and place - the early '60s NYC.

Like a lot of Donleavy characters, the protagonist George Smith, is alienated and fearful, and responds to perceived (and sometimes real) threats with satiric humour and by fleeing. Alas his flight is always followed by his troubles.

It's a kind of male fantasy novel - women drop into his bed by the dozens - coupled to what I think of as late adolescent angst.

I found it something of a struggle to grind through. I suppose that was the point: that the internal life of the character will never be made whole, and will always be fearful and put upon.

IF you want to read a slightly different time and place, but still a bit SoC stylistically I recommend Anthony Burgess's One Hand clapping

[Timothy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very few authors can accomplish what Donleavy has achieved in this dense, existential tale. The main character's identity and backround are fragmentary. You get to know him through his ethos and his toing and froing. It's up to the reader to decide whether sympathize with him, or not. Having said that, all characters are vividly portrayed right down to those who are tertiary. Toward the end you realize there is no plot per se, but by then it doesn't matter, because the chronicle is highly intriguing and the writing exceptional.

[Isaac djejjdnsn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very comforting book, relaxing. A kinda of enjoy the ride book. George Smith is dealing with an empty life whilst trying to chase his dream girl. Building a memorial grave site for himself and having to deal with the press and a mysterious persona threatening him. The book really invest you in George and these wacky side characters but the ending really made it all worth it.

[Philip E. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Love Donleavy's writing style. Short, sharp sentences. Doesn't pad things out with unnecessary verbiage that many writers seem to think is required. Despite the brevity he paints a vivid picture. And rather than using grand themes he uses the ordinary in a unique way.

[Allan Purves · Rating 5 out of 5]

Profound incoherency flows masterfully into coherency. George Smith's Everyman charm combined with the brilliantly described setting and fantastic humour makes this easily equal to, if not better than Donleavy's earlier work 'The Ginger Man'. Best book I have read this year! Loved it!

[Josh · Rating 1 out of 5]

Maybe I'm just over books with a well-to-do white guy, but this book is not nearly as clever as it thinks it is. I'm shocked this book is in print at all nearly 60 years after its initial release. Hard pass on this one for me.

[Jane · Rating 1 out of 5]

I just could not get into this book so gave up at about page 50. The narration flips from first person to third person almost in mid sentence and the story seemed nonexistent. The blurb likened it to Wodehouse but I could not see any similarities.

[Frank · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read back in the 70s

[Neil · Rating 3 out of 5]

Havent had so much sex in a book in a while

[Paschalis]

elibrary

[Bart]

todo

[Fara Curry · Rating 3 out of 5]

While the story did not thrill me to the core, what I loved was Donleavy's language and style. Most definitely will dive into another of his soon.

[Jack · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the funniest books I've read.

[Hugo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Woof woof

[Phil Lucky · Rating 4 out of 5]

This a good fuckin book

[Ian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sad but funny. Colourful but absurd. Engrossing but irritating. Rich and poor. But ultimately memorable and brilliant!

[Gila Gila · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hilarious as always, but also harsher in the glaring light of day, more pessimistic than the other Donleavy I've read, despite having much of the same set-up; our hero is an orphan, a gentleman - even when falling in shite - and finds himself the sexual object of just about any and every attractive female who falls across his path. This should be objectionable, but as always is written with such self deprecation, even smatters of self loathing, that I fell for poor not-so-sweet George Smith. Older than Sebastian, Balthazar & the other Donleavy anti-heroes whose careening antics ring of wildly misspent youth (though I'd love to misspend time with any of them) George is sadder, greyer, estranged from his horrible children who can barely stand to see him when he trudges through what feels like 150 miles of snow on Christmas to present them with gifts. He's in love with a woman who is somehow even more unhappy than he is, though a lot more colourful. Things Don't Go Well. But here I've described a miserable read, and A Singular Man is certainly not that. There's plenty to offend some people, I suppose, and a lot that shouldn't have made me laugh as hard as I did. Ah me. I love the words of James Patrick Donleavy and always will.

[Axel Ainglish · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another nice and original novel of an author I like quite a lot. Donleavy has the virtue of creating rare characters and equally rare plots that no matter, work out pretty well. He manages the stories so well that they never lack in interest. And often, they are a mix of poetry and fun. This one goes about an excentrique millionaire who while planning (and make it being built) his mausoleum, starts receiving odd letters vaguely threatening. But this is just a pretext to tell us a quite crazy and poetic love story. About him with his secretary. The scenaries are often also poetic ones. And his other loves show up here and there. For the Singular Man is kind of a womaniser. So we follow him pleasantly. His thoughts and acts are romantically told, in a chain of short sentences that go jumping from one thing into another easily. Quite a telegraphic style, as original as his characters and plots. To read Donleavy is a real pleasure, I no doubt recommend. A very original and pleasant writer.